The Crow: Phoenix Rising
by Belcris
Summary: What if "the power the Dark Lord knows not" had nothing to do with love? What if it had everything to do with justice? Crossover of Harry Potter and the Crow.
1. Should old acquaintance be forgot

**The Crow: Phoenix Rising**

_By: Belcris_

_Summary: What if "the power the Dark Lord knows not" had nothing to do with love? What if it had everything to do with justice? Crossover of Harry Potter and the Crow. _

_Harry Potter created by: JK Rowling _

_The Crow created by: J. O'Barr_

_I do not own these characters and I do not seek to profit from this story. I only wish to pay tribute to two great authors._

_WARNING: This story contains scenes of graphic violence, foul language, and death. Rape is implied. You have been warned._

_Category: AU. Dark Fiction._

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**Chapter 1: Should old acquaintance be forgot…**

The rain poured from the sky as if all the angels of heaven were crying, and maybe they were. A figure hidden in the deepest shadows walked slowly down a deserted London alley. His pain was so potent that you could feel it from ten yards away, though it was highly unlikely that anyone would dare get that close. Yet it was his rage that seemed to burn around him like a fire that not even the rain could put out. It had been one year and one day since the night of Bill's wedding to Fleur. One year exactly since it had all gone wrong. He remembered every detail as if it was just yesterday. Hell, for him it had been.

**Don't think about it.**

"Sod off," hissed the figure, looking up at the pitch black crow that perched on his shoulder.

As the figure slowly prowled the shadows of the alley, he could do nothing but remember that night. Her screams rang in his mind constantly like Hell's own personal choir was singing just for him. He remembered every moment of that terrible night, especially the rage at what they had done to her. The sound of their laughter pulled on his soul so badly that he doubted a banshee could have chilled him half as badly. The moonlight reflecting off her hair and in her dead eyes was the last thing he remembered before he woke up.

**You didn't wake up exactly.**

"I said sod off, ya bloody bird," he hissed again, though he knew it was no use.

"Stay away from me!" screamed the huddled and shivering form of a chubby little man with a silver hand. "The Dark Lord will kill you for this!"

"Been there, Peter," said the figure with a sneer on his lips as he stepped out of the last of the shadows. "But I missed you so much that I came back to see you. Didn't you miss me, Peter?"

Peter Pettigrew looked up and saw a face he had thought to be long dead and forgotten. The jet black hair and emerald green eyes were the same, but the rest of him looked very different. The young man's face was painted bone white with lips stained deepest black and two black lines running from his forehead, over his eyes, and down to his cheeks. The scar, that famous scar, was the only hint of color on the boy's face. Painted blood red, the famous lightning bolt scar stood out clearly for everyone to see. No one would be able to ignore who he was.

"H-h-harry?"

"Right in one, Peter," Harry Potter said with fake admiration. "I don't care what Lucius says about you. You really could find your way through a maze, even without putting cheese at the end of it."

Peter was shaking so badly now that he could barely speak, but the smell suddenly coming from his robes said everything. He was terrified. He glanced around looking for his wand, but it was nowhere to be seen. He had probably lost it when he had been pulled into the shadows and thrown into the wall. From the feel of it, his legs were both broken from the force of the impact. That alone should have made him pass out, but the rain in his face would not let him fade into unconsciousness.

"Y-you can't be here," stammered Peter. "H-he killed you. I s-saw you die."

"Tut-tut, now Peter," admonished Harry, kneeling down just out of Peter's reach. "Are you a wizard or not, Peter? Haven't you ever heard of magic? Well, ta-da, I'm proof that magic exists."

Falling backwards onto the ground, Harry sat cross-legged in front of the terrified Death Eater and pulled a wand from his back pocket. Peter's eyes went wide when he saw his wand in his enemy's hands. Worse still was the way that Harry was grinning at him as he pointed the wand at Peter. It was the type of grin children had on their face when they were trying to pick out their first familiar. It was also the type of grin that Death wore when he finally came to collect you.

Suddenly Harry pointed Peter's wand at the wrist that was attached to his silver hand and hissed, "_Diffindo!_"

**Nice one.**

Harry did not even bother acknowledging the bird's comment as he listened to the former Marauder scream, watching as the silver appendage suddenly turned to smoke and vanished. A quick flick of the wand cauterized the bleeding stump and another silenced the screaming man. Peter's eyes widened in horror when he realized he was no longer making a sound and the smile on Harry's face caused his bowels to release whatever was left in them. He had tortured enough people to know what was coming.

"Now that I have your undivided attention, Peter," Harry said softly, "we're going to have a little conversation."

Thinking fast, Peter went to grab for his emergency Portkey. Unfortunately for him, Harry was even faster. With two more flicks of Peter's wand and two muttered spells, Peter suddenly found his other hand lying in his lap, still twitching. He began trying to scream again, but Harry's spell let no sound escape. Reaching forward, Harry picked up the severed hand and slapped Peter several times with it until he had the chubby little man's full attention.

"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," chided Harry politely. "We're going to have a little chat, Peter. Every time you lie to me I'm going to cut something off. If you tell me the truth, you might just get out of here without losing anything else. Do you understand me?"

Peter nodded his head vigorously, not wanting Harry to hurt him anymore. Harry removed the silencing charm, and smiled at the blubbering man in front of him. Peter, for his part, was trying not to upset Harry anymore. Looking into the eyes of his former friend's son, he prayed some of Harry's former pity and compassion remained. He might still make it out of this alive and his master would reward him well for bringing news that the boy was still alive. That was, if he got out of this alive and right now, looking into Harry's eyes, Peter wondered if that was even a possibility anymore.

"Now I know you were there that night, Peter," Harry said in a conversational tone of voice. "I saw you take your mask off when you were done with her. I also know Bellatrix was there. I recognized her voice as she cast Crucio over and over again. Problem is, Peter, I don't know who the other three were. And I need to know whether HE ordered it or not. You're going to tell me though, aren't you?"

"Sure, Harry," answered Peter, still whimpering in pain. "I'll do anything to help you."

**He's a sly one, so be careful.**

"Who were they, Peter?" he asked, slowly pulling up the sleeves of his rain soaked robes.

Peter gasped as he saw his own name burned into the flesh of Harry's right arm as he began speaking. "It was the Dark Lord's idea and he ordered Lucius to gather his five most loyal to carry it out. There was me, Lucius, Bella, McNair, and Greyback. Snape was supposed to be there, but he got injured at the Ministry and couldn't come."

As each name was spoken, Harry used Peter's wand to burn the names of the six into his arms. Snape's name was the only one that he underlined. He owed the former Potions Master doubly for what he had done and almost done. Peter was watching in horror as the boy's flesh burned, tiny blue flames lingering on his skin even as he wrote the next name. When he was done Harry turned back to Peter and smiled again, a smile that froze the whimpering man's very soul.

"See, Peter, that wasn't so hard?"

Harry slowly stood up and stretched, like he had just woken from a nap. Peter prayed that some sense of sanity had returned to the boy, but all hope was lost when Harry looked back down at him. Peter knew that look in his eyes only too well. It was the look Sirius had in his eyes when he captured Peter in the Shrieking Shack, only this time there was no one here to save him from certain death.

"You know," started Harry in a voice as cold as the grave, "I never would have hurt a fly before that night. Then you bastards showed up. I almost got away when Hermione grabbed for me, but I just couldn't leave Ginny behind. I watched Ron and her vanish just as I pulled away and I think I knew right then that I wasn't going to make it. I ran to Ginny, but it was too late. You had already stunned her. Then someone grabbed me and we were gone in a flash."

Harry was pacing now, though he never got too far away from where Peter was huddled. "Next thing I knew, we're in that damned graveyard again and Ginny was screaming. It wasn't enough that Lestrange tortured her. No, that wasn't enough for you sick fucks. You had to make me watch as you each had your way with her. I heard every scream from her right up until the last one when Lestrange finally killed her. Then it was my turn."

Harry was pacing back and forth even faster now, his hands gesturing wildly as spoke. "Guess I should count myself lucky that you didn't decide to bugger me, but Lestrange sure did get off on torturing me. She's one sick bitch, though I'm sure you all know that already. Not that I really cared much after seeing what you all did to Gin. I don't even remember the pain. I just remember laying there and staring into her eyes, those beautiful brown eyes, that were dead and lifeless. When HE showed up I guess it was a mercy, because I doubt my mind would have been intact after all that. I was glad when he rammed that fucking knife into my heart."

Suddenly, without any warning, Harry was lifting Peter off the ground by his neck. There was the sudden uncomfortable sensation of Apparition and then they were standing in front of the Ministry of Magic building. As they arrived Peter watched as Harry shuddered for a few moments, seeming to be experiencing some form of pain for a moment or two. When it was done, Harry flicked Peter's wand again and the terrified man found himself suddenly floating in front of the wall next to the public entrance. He watched as Harry reached into his robed and pulled out several long and rusty railroad spikes along with a small leather pouch.

"Well, Peter, it's been fun chatting with you like this," Harry said conversationally. "I would say we should do it again, but where I'm sending you they don't talk very much. Scream a lot, sure, but not much on the whole talking thing."

Harry levitated the small leather pouch up and a leather cord suddenly appeared so that it could be hung around the now sobbing man's neck. As it fell, Peter heard it jingle softly.

"There's your thirty pieces of silver, Peter," Harry said with a dry laugh. "I wouldn't want anyone who finds you to misunderstand why you are here."

"Please, Harry!" begged the terrified man. "James and Lily wouldn't want you to do this. They wouldn't want you to become like HIM!"

Harry laughed. He laughed so hard in fact that he fell to the round and rolled around for several moments before he finally stopped and stood back up. He picked up the spikes and smiled up at Peter. For a moment the rat Animagus thought that maybe Harry was going to spare him. Then, faster than Peter could even follow, the first spike buried itself in his shoulder and pinned him to the wall. His screams echoed off the surrounding buildings, but no one seemed to notice.

"Oh, Peter," chuckled Harry as the chubby man screamed. "Who do you think suggested I kill you this way? Mum, sends her hate, by the way. Dad and Sirius can't wait to catch up with you."

"NO!" screamed Peter as the second railroad spike tore through him, but Harry just laughed.

Five minutes later and it was done. Peter Pettigrew, former Marauder, was dead. In total, twelve spikes pinned the former Marauder and traitor to the wall. There was one spike for every year Sirius had wasted away in prison for a crime he had not committed. As Harry admired his work, he pulled out Peter's wand and used it to burn the outline of a crow around the now dead figure. When that was finally done he snapped Peter's wand in half and shoved it into the dead wizard's mouth.

"Bye, Peter," Harry said, waving childishly to the dead figure in front of him. "Don't worry though, 'cause I'm going to send you some friends to play with in Hell, real soon."

With that the figure of Harry Potter turned on the spot and vanished, only to appear standing in front of a gravestone several hundred miles away. Kneeling down in the rain soaked grass over the grave, Harry reached out a hand to trace the name on the headstone. Looking at the dates listed on the stone he cursed to himself that no one should have a life cut so brutally short. His death had been one thing, but hers had been something else completely. He wished he could see her again, happy and full of life, but remembering his own return he wondered if it would be worth it. If the events of several hours earlier were any indication, Harry could not say who had it better.

_Tap. TAP. TAP!_

_The graveyard at Godric's Hollow was one of the least visited graveyards in all Europe. Of all the graves it contained, one had never been visited since the day its occupant had been laid to rest the previous year. Protected by the most powerful charms and spells known to mankind, the grave of Harry Potter could not even be seen by the living, but it could be seen by something that was more than living._

_**Get up, Harry. You have work to do.**_

_The voice floated across the empty graveyard, though with the exception of a very large crow there was no one present. Sitting on Harry's headstone, the bird continued to tap on the stone with his beak. After several minutes the ground seemed to bulge and shake. The crow stopped tapping watched as the dirt suddenly exploded from the grave and revealed a young man standing in a coffin, staring up at the bird. A second later the boy screamed, no roared because the sound was so absolutely heart wrenching, yet filled with rage that it could be called nothing else._

_**About time, Potter, **__said the voice again. __**We've got work to do and only so much time to do it. Justice has been forgotten and we are going to fix that problem.**_

_Flying down to land on his shoulder, the crow wrapped a wing around Harry's head. With a loud crack they were gone, only to appear in number twelve Grimmauld Place. Harry instantly collapsed onto the dirty floor and wept. The crow just flew over to land on railing for the stairs, knocking over a forgotten umbrella as it landed. The sound of the umbrella hitting the floor was enough to wake the painting of Sirius' mother and set her to screaming._

"_FILTH! SCUM! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"_

_Harry's sobbing ended abruptly as he suddenly climbed to his feet and hissed, "That fucking bint has got to go!"_

_Marching up the stairs to stand in front of the portrait of the screaming woman, Harry looked up at her for a moment. Before the woman's image even knew what was happening, Harry pulled back his fist and drove it straight through the painting and into the wall behind it. Pulling his hand out he repeated this with his other fist. This continued for several minutes until the picture hung in tatters and the wall behind it was nothing but an enormous hole._

_**Feel better now?**__ asked the crow as it landed on Harry's shoulder._

_Harry looked down at his broken and bleeding hands, watching as they healed right before his eyes. Soon there was no evidence of his injury save for some dried blood. He was unsure of where this power came from, whether from heaven or from hell, but he knew he would use it to get revenge on those that had hurt him and the ones he loved._

"_No," he hissed to the bird. "But I got a feeling I'm going to feel a whole lot better before long."_

"I don't know what's going on," Harry whispered to the gravestone. "I don't really know if I'm alive or dead. All I know is that I'm going to make this right. They will all pay for what they did to you and then, maybe, I'll be able to see you again. I don't know, Gin. I really don't, but I miss you so much it feels like my heart has been ripped out."

"Excuse me," said a man's voice from behind him that Harry recognized instantly. "Can I ask what you're doing here on my property? In fact, how can you be here at all considering the number of wards we have around the property."

"I just came to see her again, sir," Harry said softly. "I needed her to know that I'm going to make it right."

Arthur Weasley gasped and clutched at his chest. He had seen many things in his lifetime, some so beautiful that they made you want to cry and some so dark they could drive you mad. Right now as he looked at the back of the figure in front of him and tried to tell himself that the unruly black hair and voice were not Harry's, he was not sure which this was. Still, looking up at the crow that was now sitting on his daughter's headstone, Arthur knew that something greater than magic was at work now. He had heard of the Avatars of Death and Justice, the Crows, but he had never thought he would see one. Longstanding Ministry orders forbid anyone from interfering with an Avatar, it was well documented that the poor souls would never harm an innocent. Only those that had escaped Justice had anything to fear from them. When Harry and Ginny died he should have known this would happen.

"I'm so, so sorry," whispered Arthur. "You didn't deserve this."

Still not turning around, Harry sighed. "Neither of us did, Mr. Weasley, that's why I'm here."

"No," agreed the older man, tears rolling down his face, "neither of you did. And as much as I want to tell you not to do what I know you will, I also want them to pay for what they did to my baby girl."

Harry nodded silently as Arthur continued. "I know what you are now, son. I'm so sorry. I really am, but you need to see what I can show you."

Laying a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder, Arthur watched as Harry's body stiffened and shook as if he was being electrocuted. Arthur knew what Harry was seeing, all the memories from the aftermath of his and Ginny's murders. He was seeing Molly collapse, her heart failing when they found her daughter's and Harry's bodies. Then there was Remus and Tonks being killed when they went after Bellatrix. Finally was his own heartbreak as he watched the small wooden casket that held his daughter's remains being lowered into the ground.

When it was done, Harry stood, still not looking at the man he had once thought of as a surrogate father. "Is Mrs. Weasley alright, sir?"

"Yes, although she seems like only a shell now," replied Arthur, wiping a tear from his eyes. "I can't tell her about this, Harry. It would kill her to lose you again."

"That's just it, sir," Harry said, walking past the headstone and into the shadows beyond it. "I'm not here."

Mr. Weasley knew that Harry was gone, and he collapsed onto his knees as the sobs broke free. It was not fair that one person should have to suffer so much, but even in death Harry Potter still suffered and fought. Arthur Weasley only prayed that when it was all over that Harry and Ginny might be able to find some peace. In fact, once it was all over, Arthur prayed they could all find a little bit of peace because they all deserved it.

Harry was back at Sirius' former home in the blink of an eye, so he never heard the crying behind him. All he heard now were the sounds of Ginny screaming in his memories, and that fuel was enough to send the flames in his heart and mind soaring to the heavens. He wanted to collapse right there and then, shedding his own tears of loss and rage, but he seemed frozen and unable to move.

**No time for that, son. I've got something for you to do.**

"What now, bird?" hissed Harry, turning to see the crow resting on the back of an old bookshelf.

**We're going to go steal us a locket.**

That got Harry's attention immediately. It was the locket that had started all of this, and Harry intended it to be what started them on their way to a solution. If it had not been for that damn locket then Dumbledore would have still been alive and would have been there to save them when the Death Eaters attacked. At least that's what Harry kept telling himself. The truth was, he had no idea if Dumbledore would have been able to save them or not, but at least he would have fought.

"Where is it?"

**Oh, you'll like this one, Harry. An old friend of yours took it. **

"Can the riddles and give me the details," snarled Harry. "You're the one that keeps telling me we don't have much time, so quit wasting what we got."

The crow flew over and landed on Harry's shoulder, a ghostly laugh mixed with the sound of its harsh cawing.

**Fine. You want action, I'll give you action.**

Wrapping a wing around Harry's head, they instantly vanished and reappeared several hundred miles away. Harry looked around and found himself standing outside what was probably the ugliest house he had ever seen in his… life? Death? Either way, it was ugly. The squat little house was painted a luridly bright pink color that even in the dark of night seemed far too bright. The windows were all dark, not that Harry was afraid of the dark anymore, but they seemed to be holding back something.

"Whole place reeks of darkness," hissed Harry. "Like a sweet with a rotten center."

**You know, you aren't that far off the mark, my boy.**

Walking towards the back of the house, Harry looked up at the bird on his shoulder and grunted. "You aren't going to tell me who lives here, are you?"

**Nope. I figure you'll appreciate the irony more that way.**

Harry shrugged, not really caring one way or the other. If the locket was here then he was going to get it and no one was going to stop him. Besides, there was something about this place that made Harry think he knew who was going to be inside. If he was right, then she was in for a very bad night. If, and only if, he was right about who he was going to find inside, then she had escaped justice as well.

Reaching the back doorway to the house, Harry tried the handle and was surprised to find the door unlocked. Unlike Muggles, the Magical community seemed to take home security very lightly. Maybe it was the fact that they felt their magic made them proof against burglars, or maybe they were just stupid. Either way, Harry was not going to complain about it right now.

Stalking silently like a cat, Harry felt like retching at the sight of the décor. The whole place was a collection of disgustingly cute kitten figurines and plates. Everywhere he looked was pink and lace, reminding him of a Muggle medicine he had been forced to take once by Mrs. Figg. Every room was like that, even the last one he looked in. Laying perfectly still in a large pink bed was a woman he had wanted to see again about as much as he wanted to take a bath in acid. Still, he was right. She deserved her own little measure of justice and he was going to give it to her.

Walking silently over to her bed, Harry saw her wand on the nightstand. He picked it up and just for a moment he felt it fight against him, but then it seemed to give up and he felt that he was its master now. It had been the same with Peter's wand earlier. It was like the wands just knew that he was something more than they could fight against. As he thought about that, Harry wandered over to a Victorian era chair and dragged it over by the bed. Taking a seat, he cast several spells to make sure that his new companion would not be getting out of her bed any time soon, but she would be able to talk. Oh how she would talk.

"HEM! HEM!" he imitated as loudly as possible and watched the woman's eyes pop open. "Been a long time, Dolores. I can't say I've missed you, but then again I'm sure you haven't missed me either."

The chalk white face of Dolores Umbridge was a mask of pure terror as she sputtered out, "P-p-p-potter?"

"Got it in one, Dolores," Harry replied with a smile on his face. "I was afraid you had forgotten me."

"N-not possible," she whimpered. "Y-you're dead. S-saw your body with my o-own eyes."

"Bet that warmed whatever it is you call a heart, didn't it, Dolores?"

For an instant Harry saw the look of satisfaction that flashed across the repugnant woman's face. He had been right, she had enjoyed seeing him dead. That was fine with him because it was going to give him yet another reason to make her pay for her crimes. It also got him thinking about how the Death Eaters had gotten through the wards at the Burrow so quickly that night. Obviously they had received help from the Ministry, but now he wondered from whom the help had come.

"You were the one that dropped the wards that night, weren't you, Dolores?" he asked in a friendly tone of voice. "You wanted me dead so badly that you helped them get to me."

"Of course I did, you disgusting freak!" she shrieked. "You deserved to die after what you did to me, what you did to the Ministry! No one, not even Dumbledore's Golden Boy, has the right to go against the Ministry."

"Save it, you stupid bint," growled Harry. "Killing me had nothing to do with your precious Ministry. You just like hurting people, only this time you made a mistake."

"Yes, I did," Umbridge growled. "Seems I didn't make sure you were dead."

Harry laughed at that, then smiled at her again saying, "Oh that wasn't your mistake, Dolores. I was dead alright. Your mistake was you got Ginny involved."

"She was just a silly little blood traitor," hissed Umbridge, her cheeks flushed with her rage. "She got what she deserved!"

The smile fell from Harry's face and was replaced with an expression of rage so profound that the captive woman finally realized that she had gone too far. She watched as Harry stood up slowly, moving to put the chair back where he had found it. Slowly he turned back to her and walked over to stand over her bed. Reaching out to her, Dolores Umbridge wondered if Death looked like this when he came calling. That's when she finally understood. Death really had come for her.

Laying his hand on her forehead, Harry experienced all the memories of the woman's involvement with the attack on the Burrow. He watched as she arrived at the cemetery after the attack, gloating at the sight of his body and Ginny's. Harry saw her kick his body in the ribs and heard the sound of broken bones. Then he watched her walk over to Ginny's still form and spit in her dead face. That was the final straw and he pulled away, wiping his hand on his robes as if to clean away the memory of her cold and clammy skin.

"Where's the locket, Dolores?"

"What locket?"

Flicking her wand in the direction of her legs, Harry heard the satisfying sounds of bone breaking and screams of pain. "The locket you took from Mundungus Fletcher. Where is it?"

Shaking her head and crying like a little girl, he heard her whimper, "I don't have any locket."

"Don't lie to me, Dolores," Harry spat, waving the wand over her other leg and hearing another satisfying snapping sound. "Every time you lie to me I'm going to break another bone."

"You can't do this!" she screamed, denial and rage clear on her face. "When the Ministry finds out what you've done, they'll hunt you down and kill you!"

"You just don't get it, do you?" laughed Harry, though it was a cold and heartless laugh. "I'm already dead, Dolores. I've been dead since the moment Tom rammed that fucking knife into my heart. I'm just here for a bit o' justice and then I'm leaving. If I have my way about it, when I'm done there won't be a Ministry anymore!"

Every word he had spoken had been accompanied by a flick of the toad woman's wand. Each flick had caused a burning sensation upon her skin. And every burn had resulted in a series of words to appear on her skin. In neat little handwriting the phrase, "I will not allow the innocent to die," was burned into her skin so deeply that no amount of magic would ever be able to remove it.

"Now, you are going to tell me where that locket is, or I'm going to cut every inch of skin off you!" bellowed Harry, towering over the crying woman.

Dolores Umbridge looked up into his eyes and understood that her crimes had finally come back to haunt her. No one was going to save her this time and there was no one to hide behind anymore. Justice as she had known it at the Ministry was a lie and standing over her was the truth of it. Harry Potter, her most hated adversary, was here to make sure she paid for every misdeed she had ever done and nothing was going to stop him. Her only hope was that by helping him he might be merciful.

"It's in the music box on my dresser," she whimpered through the pain.

Harry walked over to the dresser, seeing the white wooden music box. It was like the one he had once seen in Ginny's room and he wondered if every woman had one like it at some point or another. He reached out, gently lifting the lid and saw the locket lying inside. The music box played a long forgotten song, but it was slow and sounded as if the music box was broken. He ignored that and reached out to pick up the locket. As his hand touched the cold metal his mind was once again flooded with memories that were not his own.

How long he stood there soaking up the horrible images from the locket he could not say, but given how many there had been he guessed it had been a long time. Umbridge was still crying on her bed, but she sounded weaker now. Harry turned back to her, stuffing the locket in his pocket. A part of him, granted it was a very small part of him now, wanted to let her live. However, the rest of him, the part of him that now knew what she really was and the horrible things she had been doing since his death, knew that it was time for Justice to be served.

"_Still,"_ he thought to himself, _"do I have the right to do this?"_

**You are my instrument, Harry,** replied the voice of the Crow in his head. **You are Justice. Not just for yourself and Ginny, but for all those that have suffered so greatly over the years. Though it may cause you pain, this is why I brought you back. You are here to make sure that what happened to you and Ginny never happens again.**

Harry heard the words and he thought about everything he had absorbed so far, not to mention his own memories of that night in the cemetery. Yes, he felt some guilt over what he was doing, but he also knew the Crow was right. He remembered Ginny kissing him on his seventeenth birthday and how he had realized right then that he loved her, but she had been taken from him and that was something he could not forgive or forget. That was all he needed to know in order to do what must be done.

"Time to go, Dolores," he whispered in a tone of voice so cold that it sent shivers down his own spine.

"You're leaving?" she almost begged.

"No," Harry answered, with an almost innocent smile. "We're leaving."

Walking over to her bed, Harry scooped the repugnant woman up in his arms bridal style. She knew what was coming now and she sobbed as he Apparated them away from her home. Umbridge recognized the place as the Little Hangleton cemetery. In fact, she recognized this spot as where she had first seen the two bodies the night Harry had been killed. Now she was back, only this time she knew it would be her body being discovered in a few hours.

As silent as a ghost and so gentle it seemed out of place, Harry laid the still sobbing woman down on the very spot that Ginny had lain when she died. He brushed a stray hair from her face before standing up straight above her and walking a short distance away. She watched all of this, her throat now so tight with terror that she could not make a sound. It was how gentle he had been that really terrified her because she could feel the rage pouring off his body like a fog.

"You like cats, don't you, Dolores?" he asked quietly.

With a flick of her wand, Harry transfigured several sticks into large and hungry looking tigers. Umbridge's eyes shot open so wide that he almost laughed at the sight, but now was not the time to laugh. Now was the time for Justice and he would be the Judge, Jury, and Executioner.

"Din-din time, boys," he said to the tigers.

What followed was horrific to say the least. Only a spell to keep her head intact provided her any protection, but that was only so people would know who she had been. As the large jungle cats feasted and she screamed, at least for a little while, Harry sat throwing rocks around the area. He had not intended for the stones to form the shape of a large crow around the scene, but then again he had not intended to be killed by a madman on one of the happiest nights of his life. With that thought in mind he used her wand to cast a spell into the sky causing the gigantic form of a crow to soar up into the cloudless predawn sky.

"Guess things just happen," he said to no one in particular as he listened to the sound of breaking bones. "I thought when I had beaten Tom that we would be together, Gin, but fate seems to think I'm her bitch."

**No she doesn't, Harry. You are no one's "bitch." Trust me on this. **

"Thanks for that at least," Harry said, looking over at the crow sitting next to him on the headstone of Tom Marvolo Sr.

When it was over and Dolores Umbridge was no more, Harry canceled his spell and returned the fierce cats to being just ordinary sticks. He walked over to where Umbridge's head lay, her final expression of pain and horror still frozen on her face and picked it up. Carrying it like a baby in his arms, he walked over and set it almost lovingly in the center of the carnage. Pulling out her wand, Harry snapped it in half before laying the pieces in front of the gruesome artifact. In the distance he could see the sun just rising over the horizon.

"You know, Dolores," he said quietly, "I never did like you, but I think it's safe to say that we're even now."

**Oh that's putting it mildly, Harry. She's keeping Peter company now and that's all that matters. Let's go home and you can get some rest.**

"Rest?" asked Harry, standing and Apparating them back to his Uncle's home. "I don't think I can rest."

**Yes you can, Harry. You've earned it.**

Collapsing onto one of the dusty chairs, Harry closed his eyes and was asleep before he even realized it. The crow watched as a smile appeared on Harry's face before he flew over and plucked the locket from the boy's pocket. With a jerk of its head, the crow tossed the locket into the air. Opening its mouth wider than should be possible, the crow caught the locket in its beak and swallowed it whole. A thin wail, like a train whistle in the distance, was heard for a moment before fading away.

**One way ticket to Hell, Tommy,** said the crow to himself. **Enjoy the ride.**

Harry was unaware of the crow's actions. All he knew was that he was standing in the back yard of the Burrow. It was a bright and sunny spring day with the smell of freshly cut grass and flowers in the air. He looked down at himself and smiled. He was wearing a clean pair of jeans and a white t-shirt that, surprisingly enough, fit him. In the distance he heard someone humming and he turned to see Ginny sitting under a tree by a sparkling pond. She was wearing a long white linen dress, her beautiful red hair blowing gently in the breeze. He did not think he had ever seen her look so beautiful before.

"Come sit with me a while, Harry," she said looking up at him with a smile on her face. "I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you, too," he said, walking over and sitting next to her. "This is all a dream, isn't it?"

Ginny wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his chest and sliding a leg over his. "It's a little like a dream, Harry. I'm here with you, but I'm not. It doesn't really matter though, because for right now we are together. That's all that means anything, at least for now."

Harry wrapped his arms around her tightly, closing his eyes and smiling as he said, "I've missed you so much, but I'm so tired, Gin. I just want to sleep."

"Then sleep, Harry," she whispered, listening to his breathing slow. "I'm here and I'll keep you safe."

"I love you, Gin," Harry said, his voice thick with sleep.

"I know that," she replied, closing her eyes. "I love you, too."


	2. What Rough Beast

**The Crow: Phoenix Rising**

_By: Belcris_

_Summary: What if "the power the Dark Lord knows not" had nothing to do with love? What if it had everything to do with justice? Crossover of Harry Potter and the Crow. _

_Harry Potter created by: JK Rowling _

_The Crow created by: J. O'Barr_

_I do not own these characters and I do not seek to profit from this story. I only wish to pay tribute to two great authors._

_WARNING: This story contains scenes of graphic violence, foul language, and death. Rape is implied. You have been warned._

_Category: AU. Dark Fiction._

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**Chapter 2: What Rough Beast…**

Warm sunlight on my face and a warmer body curled up next to me. If I open my eyes right now I know I'll see fiery red glowing hair. The strange thing is she doesn't smell like flowers anymore. No, now she smells of damp earth and the sickly sweet smell of rotted leaves. At least that's what I tell myself because I don't want to admit that she really smells of decay and death. That's why I don't open my eyes, because I know it's all a lie. She's gone now and this is just a dream I've created to soothe my own tortured soul.

"It's almost time for me to go," she whispers to me and I know she's right.

"I don't want you to leave," I whisper back, feeling tears form in my eyes even though I know it's a dream. "Please, don't leave me again, Ginny."

**Don't look.**

But I don't listen and I open my eyes to see her smiling down at me. She's so beautiful in her flowing white dress and her hair blowing out behind her. She smiles at me and leans in to kiss me on the mouth with lips that are soft as velvet, but cold as ice. I ignore the part of me that is screaming inside as I cup her cheek with my hand, running the pad of my thumb over the freckles I love so much.

**I'm not kidding, Harry. Don't look.**

"I've got to go, Harry," she whispers with a sad smile, slowly standing. "They're waiting for me. They're always waiting for me."

"They?" I ask, suddenly sure I know who she means.

Ginny nods and turns sideways, allowing me to see past her. They're all there, all of her attackers. Peter is missing though and I can only hope that after my visit to him in the waking world he will never return again. Tom is standing just behind the others and I promise myself that my visit with him will be really spectacular, but not until all the others are gone. I burn all their faces into my mind, noticing that Snape is missing. I'm not sure what that means, but I'll find out.

**Come on, Harry. I'm warning you. Don't look.**

Then, shaking all my belief that this is just a dream, Ginny starts walking toward the leering bastards and says clearly, "Listen to the Crow, Harry. You don't want to see this and I don't want you to see it. Close your eyes and wake up, my love."

"Ginny?"

She turned back right before reaching them and I could see the terror in her eyes now, but I could also see the love that was just for me. "Go, Harry. Avenge us and set us free!"

I turn away, I can't really help it. I clamp my eyes shut just as she starts screaming and thankfully the sound vanishes instantly. Opening my eyes again I find myself back in Grimmauld Place. I'm not sure which is worse, this place without Ginny by my side, or knowing that even in my dreams she isn't safe. Not that it matters, really. I mean, I'm dead, how much worse can it really get for me, or her? It's not like I can die again, so this is really about making those pricks pay for what they did and making sure that nothing like this ever happens again. Right?

**Right! About time you finally figured it out.**

I turn my head and see the Crow perched on the back of the dusty old chair I'm sitting in. "So, if I can't die again, then what is there to look forward to?"

**I can't tell you that, Harry. You have to figure it out for yourself. I'm just here to make sure that Justice is carried out.**

"And a bit of the ol' ultra-violence along the way wouldn't be out of place?"

**I never liked that movie. I always thought the book was much better. To answer your question though, yes, if we have to break a few heads to see Justice served then that is exactly what we'll do.**

I can't help but laugh at the bird's "words." Before I was brutally murdered by a psychotic madman, I would have never even thought about taking another life. Well, maybe Voldemort's life, but that was kind of a given considering it was prophesized and all. The thing is, getting killed really messes with your sense of what is and isn't possible. I mean, really, if you think about it, once you get past that whole dying bit, there really isn't too much that bothers you. Think about it, you're dead. What are they going to do if they catch you after you've killed all the bad guys? Kill you again? Big deal. Been there and done that. Dumbledore always said there were worse things than death and guess what, I'm one of them.

"What's on the docket today, Mr. Crow?"

**Cute, Potter,** says the pitch black bird, cuffing the back of my head with a single wing. **We're going to go visit another of your "friends." We may have a few stops to make after that, but I can't see it too clearly yet.**

"Sounds good to me," I reply, standing and stretching. "Do I have time for a shower and change of clothes?"

The Crow seems to think about that for a moment before nodding and I turn to head for the bathroom. A cleaning charm on my clothes will clean the blood and mud off them, but I really want a hot bath. Not that it will really change how dirty I feel, but I need to feel warm again and hot water is the best way to do that. I start stripping before I've even reached the bathroom. I can hear the sound of wings behind me and know that the bird is following me.

"You need something?" I ask as I enter the bathroom, naked as the day I was born.

**No, just thought I would tell you one more thing before we start the day.**

"Yeah," I say, checking to see if the water is hot yet. "And what would that be?"

**Oh, just that it's MISS Crow and not Mister.**

With that the bloody bird flies out of the room leaving me blushing and completely gobsmaked. Fortunately for me, modesty seems to be something else that I left behind when I died, so it doesn't take me long to recover. Not like I have to worry about a bloody bird seeing me naked in the shower or anything. Still, makes perfect sense that with all the other things that have happened to me over the years that the first female to see me starkers since I was an infant would be a mystical crow and not the woman I love.

"Just lovely," I mumble as I step into the shower.

It doesn't take long to clean up. Good thing too because the water didn't stay hot nearly as long as I would have liked. I guess the spells that keep the boiler hot have started to fade now that all the Blacks are dead. Doesn't really matter since I won't be staying here that long anyway. Once I've finished what I have to do, I'll be gone as well. I just hope it doesn't take too long because I'm tired and I want to rest. Once you're dead, sleep doesn't really help any. The rest I need will only come when I'm finally where I'm supposed to be. Till then I just have to keep trudging along.

Stepping out of the shower I look up at the mirror on the wall. Seems my makeup is permanent because even after scrubbing my face I still look like an insane mime. It's actually a good look for me, all things considered. The scars on my body, old and new, are a bit disturbing to look at, but I once again realize that I don't really care. Seriously, they're only scars and I won't be showing them off to anyone any time soon. Grabbing my robe I notice that it's really rather ratty. In fact, all the clothes are.

"Maybe there is some better stuff laying about this place," I mumble, walking naked from the bathroom.

After about half an hour I've managed to cobble together a few odds and ends, mostly from Sirius' old room. A long black leather robe and a pair of black leather pants are a great find. In life I never would have had the courage to wear something like this, but being dead tends to give one a sense of confidence they never had before. Down in the room I used to share with Ron I find a skin tight black t-shirt. I think it used to be mine, left behind after my last stay here. I don't remember owning something this tight, but I did grow a bit before my death. My last find is actually in Fred and George's old room, a pair of dragon hide boots with a sizing spell on them so they will always fit. That's just pure luck for me.

Making my way downstairs I wander into the study with my newly found clothing. Doesn't take me long to get dressed, though I do have to put up with several cheeky comments from that bloody bird. If I was still alive I would probably be blushing and stammering like crazy, but it really doesn't bother me now. Besides, I look good in black.

**Now that you are all dressed up, can we get going?**

"Yeah," I say, slipping on the leather trench coat. "Who are we off to see first?"

You want to know what's creepier than being an undead Avatar of Death and Justice? It's hearing that fucking crow laugh. I'm not kidding. It sent shivers down my spine and that's no easy thing to do when you're dead. Didn't help when it flew over, still laughing, and landed on my shoulder. The sound of that bird laughing in my ear was enough to make me want to run screaming, but that's not really an option for me any longer.

**We're going to pay a visit to an old friend of yours.**

"More riddles?"

**Your life is full of riddles, so deal with it. Now let's get going.**

Without another word we're gone. Traveling with the Crow is nothing like traveling with anyone else. There is no discomfort like there is with so many other types of magical travel. Instead we're just gone from where we were and then we're someplace new. It happens so fast that if you blink you'll miss it. I don't think even Apparition is as fast as traveling with the Crow.

We arrive at a rundown old house on the outskirts of a small village. The place has seen better days, but I don't really care. What's important is that one of Ginny's attackers is here and it's time for them to pay. That doesn't mean I'm just going to rush in like I did when I was alive. Instead, I look around to see if there are any other people around. It's pretty obvious that someone is inside given smell of food carried to me by the breeze. I just want to know how many are inside. I don't want an innocent to get hurt while I'm taking out the garbage. I'm here for Justice, not random acts of destruction.

"Is whoever lives here alone?" I ask the Crow as I try to get closer without being seen.

**Unfortunately not. Seems he has two people in there with him. You have to be careful because they are innocents, Harry. In fact, you have to save them.**

"I would have done that anyway," I mutter, sliding along the side of the house until I'm next to the rear doorway.

Luckily the door is open so I can see inside. There are three figures inside the kitchen. Two are young girls, Muggles from the looks of them. I'm guessing neither of them is older than nine or ten from the look of them. They are tied up in a corner on the opposite side of the room from the doorway. I don't think they've been hurt yet, at least they don't look like they have, but they do look terrified. Can't say I blame them considering who is sitting at the table with his back to them, sharpening a cruel looking knife that I'm sure he plans on using on his victims. I've really wanted to speak with Walden Macnair and now I'm going to get the chance.

I wait till he's done sharpening the blade before I make my move. Right as he turns to face the two young girls I push the door open and slip into the room. The girls see me, but he's too focused on them to pay attention to anything else. So it comes as a complete surprise when I pick up his wand from the table and stun him. I'm not sure the girls appreciate it though, since he fell on top of them. Still, he's out cold and not going to hurt them, so I think they'll forgive me.

It doesn't take long to drag Macnair's stunned body into the other room and tie him up. I can't believe what I see. This guy is one twisted individual from the looks of the things in here. It sort of reminds me of a magazine I saw in Dudley's room once. I don't remember the name of it, but I had nightmares about women in leather holding whips for several weeks afterwards. However, I can't think about that now, so I just drop the old pervert on the floor, remembering to stun him again so he doesn't wake up too soon. Once that's done I stepped back into the kitchen and released the girls. I hear the talking to each other as I walk back in. Turns out I was right, they are Muggles, or at least Muggle born. Macnair and a few Death Eaters had evidently attacked a local park the day before, killing everyone there except these two girls. The girls lived in a foster home, but from the sounds of it there is no one left to miss them now. That's probably why the Death Eaters chose that particular time and place to attack, they figured no one would care about a bunch of orphans getting killed. Macnair had hid the girls from the other Death Eaters and had obviously intended to torture them to death once he got them home.

"I'm not going to let him hurt either of you," I assure the crying girls. "I'm Harry, what are your names?"

The blonde one looks at me, I think trying to decide if she can trust me, but then whispers, "I'm Megan."

Taking it as a sign that it's ok to speak, the brunette finally says, "I'm Virginia, but my friends call me Ginny."

Damn, if that doesn't shake my world then I don't know what will. I swear it feels like someone just kicked me in the gut. It's all I can do to not start crying when I hear her name. I can feel the rage building in the back of my mind and I know that whatever the cost, I'm going to make Macnair pay for what he's done. I force myself to smile. I do a good job of hiding my anger because they smile back at me. Holding out my hands to the girls and helping them to their feet I just keep smiling, trying to reassure them without words that they are safe now. Then I guide them outside, away from the house, and ask them where their families are. Turns out both their families were killed by the Death Eaters, hence the reason they were living with foster families, so they have nowhere to go.

"I'll tell you what," I say, trying to comfort them as much as possible. "You wait here for me and when I get done I'll take you someplace safe. I've got some friends, family really, that will help you. Can you wait here for me?"

They both nod, but as I get ready to return to the house the blonde stops me. "Are you going to kill that man, Harry?"

I don't like to lie, and I'm not going to start now. "Yes I am. He's hurt a lot of people, including someone I love very much. It's time for him to find out what Justice really means."

"Are you a good guy, Harry?" asks the brunette.

"I hope I am," I reply, turning to the house again. "Wait here. I'll be back soon."

I don't wait for their reply, though I do cast a sleeping charm over them. I know this is going to take a while and I don't want them to be any more afraid than they already are. I may not like it, but this needs to be done and I need to know what Macnair knows if I'm to find the rest of his "friends." Not that I really need to, considering so far the Crow has been the one to find them all. Either way, Macnair is going to pay for his crimes. Stepping back inside, I realize that he's taken so much from so many that my loss is nothing by comparison, but that doesn't mean it is any less important. In fact, considering everything he's done, my loss is just the straw that broke the camel's back and this camel is going to make him pay for it.

Noticing Macnair's collection of "toys" on the kitchen table I pick up a few of the more interesting ones and his wand. Walking into the front room I cast several privacy charms before walking over to where he's laying. I don't think the girls need to hear this. Given the nature of the room with all its implements of sadism, it really doesn't take me very long to get things ready. Now it's just a matter of waking the guest of honor up. Simple enough, really.

"_Envenerate!_" I say as I cast the spell.

Macnair doesn't even wait to start screaming at me. He's not afraid. He's furious. Too bad for him that I've already chained him down on one of the more interesting devices in the room. It looks a lot like a rack from an old black and white horror movie. Before I woke him up I had already found the cranks that take the slack out of the chains, so Macnair isn't going anywhere unless I release him. Not that he really cares about that because he's demanding I let him go, or I'll "suffer the consequences when my Lord hears of this." What an idiot. Does he really think he's getting out of here in one piece? Several maybe, but definitely not one.

"SHUT UP!" I bellow, and now I've got his attention. "You seem to be under the impression that you're in control here. Well I'm sorry to tell you, but you're not."

"I don't know how you managed to survive when the Dark Lord killed you, Potter, but when he learns you are alive he's going to destroy you and everything you have ever cared about!" bellows Macnair.

I can't help myself and I start laughing in his face. "That's another mistake you've made, Wally. I didn't survive, and neither will you."

To prove my point I pickup one of the sharp knives I picked up in the kitchen and stab myself in the chest with it. The funny thing is, it doesn't even hurt when I do it, but I can see the look of terror growing on Macnair's face as I slowly pull the knife out. I know, rather overly dramatic of me, but the look on his face was worth ruining my new shirt. Besides, I can fix it later and now that he knows he's up against someone he can't bully, Macnair looks like he's about to piss himself.

Wait…he did piss himself.

"So much for being a big bad Death Eater," I laugh. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone. Unfortunately for you, you are going to tell me everything I want to know."

I don't need torture to get what I need from him. Whatever I've become, I can just take what I need from his memories. Laying my hand on his forehead I feel sick as the memories of torture and rape wash over me. I don't let it show on my face, but seeing Ginny violated by this monster is enough to make me want to throw up. Of course it's also enough to turn the burning rage I've been feeling into something far worse. When it's finally done and I have everything I need from him, I stand up straight and turn away from the disgusting piece of trash behind me.

"I know your secret now," I whisper, looking over the assorted implements of torture I've gathered from the other room. "You like to be in control and torture people because you can't get your wee soldier to stand at attention otherwise."

"Shut the fuck up, Potter!"

I don't even think about it, I just turn around and stab one of the thin daggers into the man's palm. A part of me, probably the part of me that remembers being alive, wants to throw up. The rest of me, the part that is now the Avatar of Death and Justice, tells that other part to shut up because this man has it coming to him. Either way, he's screaming like a little girl now. I think he's just figured out that this isn't going to end well for him. Of course, there is also a part of him that is enjoying this.

"Don't get your hopes up, Wally," I say with a sneer. "This isn't one of your Saturday night romps with Bella. I'm not here to play with you for a bit then let you hump my leg. There are no safe words this time. This time you are going all the way to Hell."

"Do your worst, Potter," he says, still trying to sound brave. "I know you don't have the backbone to kill anyone. I'll heal eventually and when I do I'm going to go after all your little friends, especially that Mudblood bitch, and I'm doing to have so much fun with them."

"Wrong answer, Wally," I laugh, picking up a very nasty looking serrated knife. "That Harry Potter died a year ago. I'm the new and improved Harry and I'm going to be sending you back to your master in pieces."

You know, to be honest, sometimes it scares the hell out of me what you can do with magic. For example, did you know that you can torture someone for hours and keep them alive with just a few simple spells? I didn't really know it either until it was all said and done. Four hours and thirty-five gift wrapped boxes of varying size later, Walden Macnair was dead. I don't know if I should be proud of it or not, but he was alive right up until the last ten minutes of those four hours. That's when he finally begged me to kill him and I granted him his last request. I spent the rest of those ten minutes addressing each of the boxes to Tommy boy and then drawing the symbol of the Crow on each card. I hope he appreciates the time and effort that went into his gifts.

A quick cleaning charm on my clothes gets rid of the evidence of what I've been doing. I don't want the girls to see me covered in blood. They've been through enough and I don't want to add to their nightmares. So, once I'm all cleaned up I walk over to the only box that's still open and press Macnair's wand to the Dark Mark on his left forearm. As soon as that's done I snap the madman's wand and drop it in the box before putting the lid on it. I know Tommy and his stooges will be here soon, but I can't stick around and play right now. I've got to get the girls to someplace safe. There will be plenty of time for playing later.

**You feel better now?**

"Fuck off," I practically grunt as the Crow lands on my shoulder.

**Don't take your bad mood out on me, Harry. I'm not the one that just cut a guy, albeit a real monster of a guy, into thirty-five pieces. Though I did think the gift wrapping was a stroke of genius.**

"What I did was disgusting," I growl. "Why didn't I feel like this last night, like I'm as bad as they are?"

**Because last night was justice and today was revenge. You are not the Avatar of Revenge, Harry. Trust me, I've met that loser and you don't want to be him. No, you are the Avatar of Death and Justice. I chose you because you suffered more than anyone else while your attackers went free. What you did in there was more about making him suffer than it was about Justice.**

"So, what you're saying is that I am just like them?"

The Crow actually nips my ear the way Hedwig used to when she wasn't happy with me.

**Oh boo hoo. Harry Potter, the martyr, feels so bad because for once in his life because he did something naughty. Well excuse me if I don't want to attend that particular pity party. Walden Macnair was a dark and evil man who had escaped Justice for far too long. I know what he did to you and what he wanted to do to those girls, so pardon me for being rather pleased he's dead. Yeah, maybe you could have done it a bit differently, but in the end dead is dead and I'm not going to complain either way.**

The damn bird is right and I know it. She brought me back to deliver Justice, not to indulge in a personal vendetta against a few people. Paying them back for what they did to me and Ginny is just a perk of the situation. If I start forgetting that I really will be just like them. Not that I really have time to think about it much. I've got to get the girls to safety before Wally's friends show up.

Thankfully the girls are still asleep where I left them. It takes a bit of careful maneuvering, but eventually I've got one in each arm. The Crow lands on my shoulder and we vanish just as I hear several loud cracks. Obviously I cut it just a bit close, but now I'm safe. This is the second time in two days that I've been here, but really there is no other place I could take the girls right now. Picking them up I absorbed their memories and I know that they have nothing to return to. I also felt my magic, or what now passes for my magic, stirring a bit when I picked them up. I'm not sure they were witches before I picked them up, but I'm sure they are now.

"Was that your doing?" I ask the Crow.

**Call it a gift. They had the spark, but it had never really turned into a flame. I just fanned it a bit. They deserve to have something good come out of all this.**

Smug bird actually sounds like she means it. "You do realize that you've put them right at the top of Tommy's list of people to kill, right?"

No response from the bloody thing. I decide to just ignore the giant feather duster. I have other things to do right now. This is the safest place I can think of for the girls and I'm hoping that having them here might pull Molly out of the funk she's been in since Ginny and I were killed. At least that's the plan. I just hope I can drop them off and get out of here before Molly knows I'm here.

"Who's there?"

I just had to jinx myself, didn't I? I really don't want Molly to see me like this. Hell, I don't want her to see me at all. She's going to lose it when she figures out what's going on. I remember what Mr. Weasley showed me last night and I don't want her to go through that again when I leave this time. It's not fair to her. Let's be honest, it's not even fair to me. I don't want to see her now. She's the closest thing to a mum I've ever had. I don't want her to suffer and I don't want to know that I'm the reason she's suffering.

**Don't worry, Harry. I'll take care of it.**

"A friend in need," was all I could think to answer.

Looking up I saw her standing there, the woman I considered to be my mum in all but blood. She looks so much thinner than I remember her and her eyes look so sad now. Still, I can see in her face that look of determination that I remember so well. I want to run to her and feel her hug me, one of her famous bone breaking hugs, but I can't. It would hurt too much if I did that and I've got too much to do to let my pain cripple me.

"Well pardon me, young man, but none of my friends run around with their faces painted up like it's Halloween carrying little girls in their arms," she replies, but I notice she doesn't even have her wand drawn. "Tell me who you are, or I'll have my husband out here and he'll deal with you."

"No he won't, Mrs. Weasley," I say softly. "He knows I've got too much to do yet before I rest."

That seems to shake her a bit, so I continue. "As for the girls, they're the ones that really need your help."

"Why would they need my help?"

"Because they've got no one now," is my answer. "Death Eaters attacked them and killed everyone that could take care of them. I can't take care of them, so I brought them to the safest place I know of."

Shit, that was a mistake. Molly rushes forward and before I can stop her she's reaching out for the girls. I feel it the instant her hand touches my arm and her memories start flooding into me. Oh God, her memories are like fire in my mind. The days upon days of raw grief she has suffered through since that night. It's too much for me and I can feel my legs giving out. It's all I can do to hold onto the girls as I fall to my knees.

"Are you alright?" she asks, that worried tone in her voice that she always had when I was hurt or sad.

"I'm alright," I say, though it's a lie. "They're just heavy."

Molly nods and takes the blonde from me. "Come on, let's get them inside."

I can't argue with her right now or I'll break down and tell her everything. I just follow her inside and into the front room. Carefully we set the girls down on the couch, the two of them now clinging to each other in their sleep. If I didn't know what they had been though today I would say they were just two little innocent girls, but I do know. I can only hope that Molly will be able to help them.

"Please," I beg. "Please, just take care of them. Tell your husband that Crow asked him to take care of them. They need a good home and I can't think of any place better than here."

"Hello?" Megan says, finally waking up. "Where are we?"

I kneel down next to the couch and brush a stray lock of blonde hair from her face. "Remember I told you I was going to take you someplace safe?"

She nods and I notice that Virginia is now awake as well. "Well this is the place I was talking about. This woman is Mrs. Weasley and she's about the nicest woman you will ever meet. If you don't mind, I would like you to stay here with her and her family. Would that be alright with you two?"

I watch the girls look up at Mrs. Weasley appraisingly. I glance at her myself and see that while the sadness is still there in her eyes, there is also determination. She's not going to let the girls go easily and she's going to make sure they are happy. That's all that I can ask for. I'll have to ask the Crow about getting some money to them for the girls to use at school, but that is going to have to wait for now. What I really need right now it to get out of here before I can't take it anymore. Being here, in this house, bring back too many memories of my old life and Ginny.

"Yeah," says little Virginia, "we'll stay if you think it's safe."

"It is," I answer with a smile, reaching out to ruffle her hair. "I can't think of any place safer for you."

We talk for a few more minutes, Molly answering as many questions as she can. I think this is going to be good for her. All her kids are grown now, or gone. This will give her something to fill the void in her heart and maybe allow her to finally heal. At least that's what I hope will happen. I can't really stick around to make sure though, since I'll be gone before too long. Speaking of leaving, I really should.

As I stand up to leave Megan stops me by grabbing my hand and pulling me down and wrapping her arms around my neck in a tight hug. "Thank you for everything."

Little Virginia is crying now, but she joins in on the hug and I can't help but hug them both back. "You two be good for Mrs. Weasley, okay?"

"We will," they answer in unison.

I lean a little further forward and whisper so only they can hear me. "You are my family now, just as the Weasleys are. When the time comes, you ask Mr. Weasley about me, about who I was. I'll be proud for you to bear my name as your own, my little sisters."

They both squeal, I find girls do that a lot when they are excited, and I am hugged and kissed by my two new little sisters. I hate that I will never get to know them better than this, but I will do everything I can to make sure they are taken care of. Maybe I can talk to Mr. Weasley again and see what happened to my trust account at Gringotts. If it's still there, maybe there is a way it can be turned over to the girls. They deserve it and they deserve to lead a good life.

"Will we see you again?" asks Megan as I finally turn to leave.

I hate it, but I tell them the truth saying, "I'm afraid not. I have a lot to do and when I'm done I'll be going away."

"Do you have to?" asks Virginia, tears in her eyes.

"Yes," I reply, smiling sadly at them both. "Someone is waiting for me and I can't keep her waiting too long. It's rather rude to keep a woman waiting, you know?"

The girls giggle a little bit, though they still have tears in their eyes. Unfortunately I think I've said a little too much because Mrs. Weasley is standing in the doorway to the living room with a look on her face that says she's almost figured it out. I've got to get out of here before she does, or all hell's going to break loose. I can't deal with that right now. I've got too much to do.

"You girls take care of yourselves and make sure you lead a good and happy life, alright?"

"We will, big brother," replies Megan, while Virginia just nods vigorously.

I can see Mrs. Weasley wanting to follow me outside to question me. In fact, I'm pretty sure she's going to stun me and sit on me until I answer her questions. Fortunately for me I've got a fast out in the form of a semi-Divine bird that can transport me straight through wards. So as soon as I'm out the door the Crow wraps a wing around my head and we're gone. I just want to get home, or at least back to Grimmauld Place since the place I just left behind is more like my home than anyplace other than Hogwarts.

"God," I murmur as we arrive back at Sirius' old home. "I need a long night's sleep after that."

**Good. Get some rest and while you do that I've got some things to check out.**

"Sounds good," I mutter, collapsing on the couch and pulling a dusty old blanket over me. "See you in the morning."

The poor boy is asleep almost as soon as his head hits the armrest of the couch. He's probably the first Avatar of Death and Justice that has ever been able to hold on to this much of his humanity and not go insane doing what is required. I respect him for that more than anything else. The world needs more men like him. Then again, they killed him so I'm afraid of what they would do to another one.

With a flick of my wings I'm back at the Burrow sitting outside a half open window. I want to hear Mrs. Weasley and the girls talking. I trust Harry's instincts almost as much as I trust my own, but I want to make sure they'll be alright.

"So you say Mr. Crow saved you from the bad man and then made the bad man go away forever?"

"That's right, Mrs. Weasley," answers Megan. "But his name isn't Mr. Crow."

Molly turns around to look at the girls with a smile on her face, but I can see she's afraid to hear the name they are going to speak. She's determined though, so she asks the question I know she's dying to ask. Her reaction to this will determine whether or not she's ready to deal with life, or she's going to hide from it.

"What is his real name, dear?"

"Harry," answers little Virginia. "I think he's an angel."

Molly hangs her head, then takes a seat in one of the empty chairs around the dining room table. Her face loses all color for a moment before looking back up at the girls and smiling at them. This is not a fake smile. It's a true and genuine smile that warms even my heart to see. It looks like Harry was right about her good heart and iron determination. She may have lost it for a little while, but it was never really gone.

"Yes," she says softly, a single tear in her eye. "If there was ever anyone I knew that could be called an angel, in every sense of the word, it was Harry. Let me tell you about the time he saved my daughter from a basilisk."


	3. How much is that doggie…

**The Crow: Phoenix Rising**

_By: Belcris_

_Summary: What if "the power the Dark Lord knows not" had nothing to do with love? What if it had everything to do with justice? Crossover of Harry Potter and the Crow._

_Harry Potter created by: JK Rowling_

_The Crow created by: James O'Barr_

_I do not own these characters and I do not seek to profit from this story. I only wish to pay tribute to two great authors._

_WARNING: This story contains scenes of graphic violence, foul language, and death. Rape is implied. You have been warned._

_Category: AU. Dark Fiction._

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**Chapter 3: How much is that doggie…**

Sunlight poured in through one of the old ruined curtains and woke me up from another dream about Ginny. At least this time MacNair was gone, so that's a good sign. Right? I opened my eyes and looked up at a spider web in the corner of the room. It took me a moment before I noticed the fly that was struggling against its fate as it was slowly wrapped up in silk by a fat black spider. The sad thing is, I couldn't figure out if I related more to the fly trapped in the web, or the spider that was preparing his meal. How messed up is that? I don't know if I'm the victim or the victimizer anymore.

Throwing my legs over the edge of the bed I slept in last night, I stand and make my way into the bathroom. I don't really need to use it, but I've done it for so long that it's a comforting habit. Sort of like breathing, you don't miss it until it's gone and then it's too late to get it back. I'm breathing now, but I know it's only a temporary thing. I'll be back feeding worms before too much longer. I just hope when the time comes I'll be able to see Ginny again. This shit isn't worth it if she's not there. I'm so tired and I just want to curl up in her arms and sleep.

As I look into the bathroom mirror I wonder when I stopped needing the makeup? The white skin, black lips, black vertical lines across my eyes, and the blood red lightning bolt scar are all permanent now. Doesn't matter how many times I try to wash it off, I'm marked now and there's nothing that can change it. Not that I really want to, seeing as how it's proof I'm the Avatar of Death and Justice. At least that's what the bloody fucking Crow calls me. Just like the rest of my life, even my death has people putting titles and such on me.

"_Wonder who died and made her God?"_ I wonder as I turn on the water in the shower.

I may be dead… Undead… Whatever I am, but I sure need a bath because I stink like wet mud and dried blood. I'm not exactly going to make a good impression on the goblins if I walk into Gringotts looking like a corpse. Wait. I am a corpse. Shit, now how the hell do I get out of this one? Can't very likely tell them I'm back from the dead for a few days and need to do some banking. Yeah, like that would work.

"_They'd throw me out on my ass faster than Ron could eat a full breakfast, with seconds."_

I really need to take care of some things, though I'm not sure how legal they'll really be, considering I'm dead and all. For all I know the goblins will just kick me out and tell me my money was given to charity. Actually, more like they will tell me my money was given to them for "services rendered." Funny how the services they rendered remind me so much of the services Uncle Vernon used to get from those tarts he would bring home when Aunt Petunia wasn't there. You know, I don't think she ever did figure out that Dudley wasn't the one staining his sheets so much. What I do know is that Dudley never even noticed the mess, or the smell. That boy was as clueless as they get.

"_Fat pig stunk so bad to begin with that I doubt it made any difference to him in the least."_

Of course that line of thinking gets me thinking about smells I liked and disliked. I hated the smell of car wax thanks to all the times Uncle Vernon forced me to wash and wax his car. Oddly, I love the smell of fresh cut grass, even though I was usually cutting it while my "family" sat watching the television. I think it's because that was one of the few times that I was allowed outside where I could enjoy the sunlight. On the other hand, I loath the smell of mothballs since my cupboard was always filled with them. Then there is my favorite scent. The one I wish I could smell right now, but know I can't. I loved the smell of Ginny's hair and how it always smelled of freshly cut wild flowers.

So, here I am, standing in a freezing cold shower thinking about how my dead girlfriend's hair smelt before she was raped and killed. Oh, let's not forget the fact that I was killed a few minutes after she was, but now I'm back and I'm some invincible killing machine. Yeah, it's official, my life really could get stranger than it already was. I thought finding out I was a wizard was crazy, but this takes the cake. I'm still not positive that Vernon didn't bash my head in when I was eleven and this is all some coma dream I've been having ever since.

"_Not that I could get so lucky considering how my life was up to that point."_

Climbing out from under the cold spray I reach for a towel. Thing looks like it's been here since before I snuffed it, but at least I'm dry. I wonder if they washed my body after I was killed. I know that used to be tradition, but I have no way of knowing what the procedure is here in the Wizarding world as opposed to the Muggle world. Not that it really matters to me. I don't think there is any amount of soap and water that will make me feel clean again. Being in this body just doesn't feel right to me anymore. I don't know where I was after I died, but wherever it was it was, I know it was better than this place. Being back here, being "alive again" just makes me feel dirty and cranky and nothing is going to change that. People aren't meant to come back once they've seen the other side. It's just not fair to us.

On that cheery note I headed off to the bedroom again. I found a few odds and ends to wear last night before I fell asleep. They're crap, but they'll have to do for my little meeting at Gringotts. I'll have to find a cloak or something to cover my face. I don't need the attention I would get if people saw me like this. Hell, I don't need the attention at all and I never did. I just wanted to be me, but everyone else always wanted me to be THE Harry Potter. What I never understood was what was so bloody wrong with just being plain old Harry? Why couldn't being me be enough for most people? They wanted a savior so bad that they hated me when I showed even the smallest amount of human weakness. That's why it was so easy to vilify me in the newspapers. I would bet all the money in Gringotts that they curse my name for being killed and blame me for it.

"_Where's that stinking crow when I need her,"_ I think to myself as I pull on the mismatched clothes; they smell like cedar and dust. _"When I don't want her around, she's all over me, but the first time I could use her she's gone."_

I head back into the bathroom when I'm done dressing and take a quick glance in the mirror. "You look like shit, Potter. Why thank you, Harry."

I think I'm going insane. Then again, is that really something new or is it that I'm just now noticing it? I heard a guy on the telly say that it's the crazy blighters that think they are sane and the sane ones that think they are crazy. It made sense when I heard it, but it worries me now. I have no idea which category I fall in. I'm either crazy and think I'm sane, or I'm sane and think I'm crazy. Do you think it's possible to be crazy and wonder if you're going insane? If it is, I think that would be the category I fall under.

"'The time has come,' the Walrus said, 'To talk of many things: Of shoes-- and ships--and sealing-wax-- of cabbages-- and kings-- and why the sea is boiling hot-- and whether pigs have wings.' i"

I don't know why I quote that as I walk downstairs. I always did like the book _Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There_, but for some reason that one little line keeps coming back to me over and over again. Could also be the movie, one of the few that I was ever allowed to watch when I was growing up. I still remember laughing when Alice was stuck in the house. I think I'll just chalk it up to nerves, or maybe my impending insanity. Yeah, me and Alice are a fine pair of loons. At least I'm in good company.

An hour later and I'm standing outside the doors of Gringotts. It was surprisingly easy to get here, all things considered. A discarded robe in the garbage outside the Leaky Cauldron was all I needed to hide my face. After that I just walked through the bar and hid in the shadows till someone opened the passage for me. I really need to get a wand of my own, but I rather doubt Ollivander has one for the likes of me. Can't hurt to ask when I'm done here.

"Who goes there?" demands one of the goblin guards. "Show yourself!"

I learned a long time ago not to argue with goblins, so being the nice guy that I am I pull back my hood and show him my face. Little shit drops to the ground so fast I might have missed it if I wasn't looking right at him. He's kneeling, and so is his partner, like they have just seen the second coming of God. I'm about to ask them what's going on when the massive doors open on their own and several ancient looking goblins in fine-looking robes step out.

"Follow us," says the oldest looking goblin I've ever seen.

"Why should I do that?"

"Because," he rasps in a voice like the wind blowing through dry leaves, "we know what you are and we must aid you."

"_Cryptic much, Dumbledore Junior?"_ I think to myself as I follow them inside. _"Then again, at least the goblin mentioned the word help. That's got to be a good sign. I hope."_

Several long minutes and a lot of bowing goblins later we are sitting in what looks like a conference room. There are thirteen ancient-looking goblins sitting around the table with me sitting at one end and the one that spoke to me at the other. I notice Griphook sitting in a corner, staring at me like I'm the biggest piece of gold he's ever seen in his life. It's more than a little creepy actually.

"My name is Ragnok, Mr. Potter," said the ancient goblin. "I hold the position of Chief Auditor here at Gringotts. Among humans you would think of me as the Minister or King of my people."

"Call me Harry, please?" I ask, leaning back in my chair. "Mr. Potter makes me feel so old."

"Age, for one such as you, does not really play a major factor anymore, now does it, Harry," replied Ragnok and I swear he actually smiled at me.

Trying not to let them see me shudder at the sight of that smile, I ask, "So, does that mean you know why I'm here?"

Ragnok nodded, as did every other goblin in the room. "We goblins respect vengeance above all other things. It is central to our beliefs that to strike down your enemies in vengeance is a holy act. Being the Hammer of Vengeance, you are like an Angel to us and we are sworn to help you in any way we can. To fail in that task is a crime against our Goddess and is punishable by the loss of our fortunes."

"Ouch," is all I can think to say. "I know how much you care about your gold. Losing it is worse than death for you."

All the goblins bow their heads and Ragnok nods. "Yes, it is a horrible thing amongst my people. That is why when the Goddess told us that you were coming we made arrangements to help you."

"When did your 'Goddess' tell you I was coming?" I ask, feeling a little uneasy that some unknown divinity has been announcing my itinerary to passing strangers.

"I understand your concerns, Harry," Ragnok says soothingly, or as soothingly as a goblin can. "She appeared to one of our Shaman the night you died and told us to be ready for your return."

"Great," I say as I wipe my hand over my face. "At least I was on time for our little meeting."

"That you were, Harry," laughs Ragnok. "I must say, I was expecting something a bit more terrifying in a Hammer of Vengeance. I'm pleasantly surprised to find that you are actually a very intelligent and humorous young man."

"It's the whole being stabbed in the heart thing," I answer flatly. "Gives you a completely different outlook on life."

"I'm sure it does," agrees Ragnok. "However, we must get down to business. How can the Goblin Nation help you, O Hammer of Vengeance?"

I think about it for a few moments before making up my mind. There are many things that I need right now, but it's probably best if I keep it simple. I know I promised to help the girls, so that must be taken care of right away. I also need all the help I can get to find those damned Horcruxes. Other than that, I'm not sure what else I really need. I mean, really, I'm going back in the ground just as soon as I finish my business, so what's the use in getting all complicated about it?

"Is my money still in your vaults?"

"Yes, it's all still right where you left it," answers Ragnok.

"Good," I say with a relieved sigh. "There are two young girls staying with the Weasleys. I want you to arrange for them to become my official heirs. Every last Knut in my vaults is now theirs. I also want them officially made members of my family and back date it to before I died, so no one can ever argue that they are not entitled to my money. Put it all in trust until they reach seventeen and make Molly and Arthur Weasley their guardians until that point. Can you do that?"

There is a bit of mumbling around the table, but Ragnok nods as I continue. "I also need to know everything you know about Horcruxes, specifically any that may have been made by Voldemort."

**No need for that last bit, Harry.**

I look over my shoulder and there sits the Crow in all her feathery glory. What I don't expect is that when I turn back, every goblin in the room is on the ground with their heads pressed to the floor. Even Ragnok is on the ground. I look up at my avian companion and I swear to you she actually shrugs her "shoulders" at me. I can't help but laugh.

**Oh, do get up. Especially you, Ragnok. I have told you hundreds of times not to do that. Griphook, as my Shaman, tell these lumps to stop doing that. It looks silly and I'm not impressed in the least.**

Griphook starts to laugh and I notice as he starts to speak that he's the only one still sitting in his chair. "Forgive me, Mistress, but they won't listen to me. I may be your Shaman, but they still think it is disrespectful to look upon you."

"You're their Goddess?" I ask, watching as the Crow flies to the center of the table and lands.

**Yes, it's a long story, though if they keep acting like this I may turn them over to my brother, Coyote. He just loves to play games and gamble away his money.**

Boy does that gets their attention in a hurry. Faster than you can say, "Bob's your uncle," they are back in their chairs with heads held high. Granted, a few of them are still looking down at the table, but it's much better than them laying in the dirt. Ragnok is one of the ones looking her in the eyes though, so he's not completely spineless.

"See, Mistress, they just need a little divine guidance," Griphook says, trying not to laugh.

**Behave, Griphook. You're not too old to spank, you know.**

"Yes, Mistress," answers Griphook and he actually looks scared.

**I know where the Horcruxes are, Harry, so there's no need to worry about that for now. Instead, I think we should concentrate on taking care of your charges while Ragnok sends someone down to the Lestrange vault and brings back a certain cup for us. He knows the one I mean.**

I guess he does because he actually gets up from his seat and runs out of the room. Watching the King of the Goblin Nation run out of a room like all the demons in Hell are hot on his tail is not something you see every day. In fact, I don't think I ever want to see it again because that kind of power just scares the crap out of me. Not an easy feat for someone who has been killed, killed a few people, and is going to kill a few more.

Within a few minutes, Ragnok runs back into the room panting and sweating. "Here it is, Goddess!"

Oh yeah, I can smell the evil pouring off this thing. It smells a lot like death, only not as sweet. I can't even begin to tell you what it reminds me of because most people just never bump into something that foul. Yet here it is, another of Moldyshort's Horcruxes. It is yet another paving stone in the road to killing him, once and for all. I can't wait to see the Crow do her thing. I want him to burn in Hell for what he has done, especially for what he ordered his sick little followers to do to Ginny.

I watch as the Crow does her thing, swallowing the Horcrux whole. I can hear the piece of Voldemort's soul shriek as it vanishes into the darkness and I can't help but feel a chill go down my spine. Voldemort is a real bastard and I want him dead, but I can't help but wonder if even he deserves what's going to happen to him.

"_Oh, who am I kidding,"_ I think to myself. _"That twisted old fuck deserves everything he gets and then some."_

"Well, if I don't need help with the Horcruxes," I say, looking around the room. "I've got a few little favors to ask of you."

An hour later and I'm dressed in new clothes and back out in the sunlight. I have a magical backpack across my back with a change of clothes, an unregistered wand, and a tooth brush. I could have done without the clothes, but damned if that tooth brush wasn't a lucky break. You have no idea how foul my mouth tastes after being dead for a year and waking up without a toothbrush. I also have a canvas-wrapped package tucked away in my robes, but that is for later.

**I'm guessing you want to pay a visit to Fenrir sometime soon?**

"Oh yeah," I say with a wide grin and a nod. "I'd love nothing more than to say hello to him as soon as possible."

**I think that can be arranged. It's a full moon tonight, but I'm certain you'll be able to handle him. I'm very proud of you, Harry.**

"Yes, mum," I reply sarcastically and get hit upside the head with one of her wings.

A moment later and we are standing in a forest somewhere. Don't ask me where because I have no idea. It looks old, really old, so it's probably somewhere either on the continent or the colonies. That's not really surprising considering that werewolves like the old forests for hunting. There are more wild animals in the old places, not to mention when humans go missing there no one thinks it's strange. So what if the Muggle victim is torn to shreds, it's just the wild animals. No big deal.

What really gets me is the fact that in all the years that it's been going on, no one has tried to stop it. It's one of the many things about the Magical world that always bothered me. I mean, isn't that what the Aurors are for, to stop people from being hurt by magical creatures run amok? Then again, they couldn't be bothered to stop Tom Riddle when he was just starting out, so why would they bother to try and save a bunch of innocent Muggles? It's not right, but I guess it's the way things are. What happened to me and Ginny is proof of that.

**Are you ready, Harry?**

"Yeah," I grunted. "I take it he'll be here soon?"

**Yes, he will. I could have gotten you closer, but I thought you might want to prepare yourself.**

"I'm not sure what I can really do to prepare myself," I said, looking up at the branch the crow was sitting on. "I mean I studied werewolves in school, so I know a little about them."

**Given your history of teachers at Hogwarts, I'm sure you know almost nothing then. So, remember this. A werewolf is almost completely insane during the change and they heal at an incredible rate. Don't forget, you heal even faster so long as you are my Avatar.**

"Let's hope," I said calmly. "I'd hate to see Ginny again and be all messed up."

**I won't lie to you, Harry. The powers I have gifted you with can be taken away should I be injured or killed.**

I was gobsmacked to say the least. "You can be killed?"

**Well, this body can be. It's as mortal as any other crow flying around. If I am killed while in this body, I return to my true form and you will become completely mortal again, at least for a time. Don't think it's a way to return to your old life. The magic that I have granted you with will only last for a short time, and should I die it would fade even quicker.**

"I don't want to 'live' again," was my reply. "This isn't my world anymore, not without Ginny in it. When this is all over, I just want to see her again. Till then, I have things to do and people to see. Even if I must walk through Hell to do it, I will see that they are brought to justice, for Ginny."

**I know. That's why I picked you, Harry. Now, you should get ready. The moon is coming up and your guest will be here soon.**

You know, before I died and came back I never would have thought about taking someone's life. As far as I was concerned, not even Voldemort was evil enough for me to kill him. Funny how seeing the woman you love be raped, tortured, and killed can change how you look at the world. Since my return I've killed three people and I'm preparing to kill another, with more to come soon after. Part of me, that last shred of the human that I was, wants to feel guilty about what I've done. The rest of me, the creature that I've become, knows that these people are nothing but plague carriers that must be cleared away before they spread their disease to others. MacNair was a perfect example of that and so is Greyback.

I remember when I first heard that it was Greyback that had attacked and infected Remus. At first I had thought it was some poor tormented soul that had attacked Remus, but when I saw him attacking people the night Dumbledore died, I knew he was a demented beast. A fact that was proven the night we died. Out of all of Ginny's attackers, Greyback was the most violent. Even if she had lived she would have been horribly scarred for the rest of her life. Her screams tore my heart and soul apart, but it was his laughter that truly broke me. And now it was time to return the favor.

**He's coming!**

I didn't really need the warning. I've never seen Greyback when he's transformed, but from the sound of it, he's a big one. I can hear limbs breaking and a howling that would send a normal person running in fear, but not me. I've already faced death once and that fear holds no power over me anymore. Tossing my backpack aside I pull out the package I got from the goblins. Opening the canvas wrapping I see the weapon I asked to borrow for the occasion. It's rather appropriate really.

"Come on you mangy bastard!" I snarled, holding the cruel looking silver battle axe in my hand. "Time for some payback!"

I was right, he was big. Greyback came upon his name honestly, that's for sure. The enormous beast was jet black except for the grey fur that covered his back. At his shoulders he must have been seven feet tall and all of that was pure muscle. Well, except for the yellowed claws and teeth that is. Greyback was one ferocious looking beast, that's for sure. Of course, I'm no slouch either.

Faster than I could see, Greyback was on me. I felt the pain as his claws ripped through my clothes and chest as I hit the ground with the werewolf on top of me. Thankfully I was able to get my foot up against his chest and push him away. I rolled backwards and away from him, but he leapt forward again. The snapping of his jaws only an inch from my throat was enough to convince me that this was not going to be like my other confrontations. If I wanted this monster dead, I was going to have to work for it.

Using the goblin made axe as a shield, I managed to avoid his next attack. It didn't do me much good, but it bought me enough time for my chest wounds to heal themselves. I hadn't been real sure what the Crow meant when she said I healed fast, but now I was. Wounds that a moment before had gone all the way down to the bone, sealed perfectly in just a few seconds. Only my shredded and blood soaked t-shirt showed that I had been attacked. I would have thought it was even more interesting if a crazed killer werewolf wasn't trying to kill me.

The crazed beast took a swipe at my head, which I managed to dodge by the tiniest of margins. I dropped down and tried to hit him with my axe, but missed. When I picked the axe as my weapon of choice against Greyback, I had assumed that it would be easy to use. I guess the joke was on me because it was a pain in the ass trying to fight with the blasted thing. Sure, it looked really impressive, but I stood about as much chance of cutting my own head off as I did cutting Greyback's off. That thought in mind, I flung the axe aside and crouched down ready for the next attack.

"Come on you wanker," I snarled. "Let's see which one of us can bleed more!"

What followed was more of a wrestling match than a fight. I'm not too proud to say that fighting a fully mature werewolf is probably not my smartest ideas ever. Over the next several hours we traded blows back and forth. In the end it really was blood loss that became the deciding factor. Both our wounds healed almost instantly, but whereas I am dead already, Greyback was still a living breathing creature. Eventually he became tired and made a mistake.

Lunging forward, Greyback over extended his reach and stumbled forward. Seeing an opportunity to finish the fight I leapt up, planted a foot square on the top of his head, and kicked off it into the air. The force of my action drove Greyback face first into the ground and a moment later I crashed down on top of him with my knee straight down into the middle of his back. The sound of breaking bones and a howl of pain was all it took for me to know that the fight was over. Proof came in the fact that the massive lycanthrope was dragging his hind legs as he tried to pull himself away from me.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" I asked, watching the whimpering beast as it tried to escape. "I'm not sure if you can heal from a severed spinal cord, but I'm not going to find out."

Funny thing about werewolves, they resist most forms of magic. Sure, you can put them down with enough power and nothing resists the Avada Kedavra spell, but most witches and wizards just don't have the ability to really hurt a werewolf. On the other hand, even a four year-old with a silver stake can kill a werewolf if he hits him in the right spot. Right now, with his hind legs useless, Greyback was just an injured puppy trying to get away. But, a year ago he had been a sadistic bastard even when he wasn't transformed and he had carved his name on Ginny's body with his claws. I had no mercy for the whining creature before me. I would have my pound of flesh.

Retrieving my axe from the underbrush I walked up behind Greyback. Reaching down I grabbed his rear leg. Once again my mind was filled with memories of all his foul deeds that night. I heard Ginny screaming as he carved his name in her flesh. I could smell her blood and fear as she looked up at him. Worst of all I could hear my own screams as I begged him to let her go and take me in her place as he put one of her fingers in his mouth. Thank God, or whoever is in charge of this stuff, but I didn't have to relive that part of the memory. Instead the memory faded, but not the anger and the fury.

"You thought it was funny," I growled. "Hearing her screams and tasting her blood was funny to you. You enjoyed it."

Lifting the axe high over my head, I swung it down as hard as possible on the beast's left hind leg. A quick spell allowed me to stop the bleeding before he died and I quickly repeated the process with his right leg. Greyback's severed spine prevented him feeling what I was doing, which was just fine with me. In fact, seeing that the moon was going to be going down shortly, it was perfect. As the legs reverted to their human shape, I cast a spell on them to mask their scent before tossing them in front of the injured beast. That's when another little known fact about werewolves came into play. You see, the fastest way for a werewolf to heal is for them to eat. Fresh meat is best and it is an almost instinctual need to eat that drives the beasts to feed when they are hurt. So, not being able to smell his own scent on the severed limbs in front of him, Greyback began to eat.

About twenty minutes later it was done. I watched the whole thing thankful that I didn't need to eat anymore. As the moon set I cast an illumination charm on the trees around me, so Greyback would see everything when he changed back. Minutes later the naked and mutilated man was laying before me, groaning happily and patting his belly as he woke up. He had that smile on his face that you see in small children right after they've had a big meal of their favorite food. It took him a moment to realize something was wrong, namely that he couldn't stand up or feel his legs. That's when he opened his eyes and saw the remains of his meal in front of him. Still not feeling the pain, or maybe because he had just changed back, he didn't seem to understand what he had eaten.

"Did you enjoy your little snack, Greyback?" I asked from behind him. "You seemed to. I hope you liked the taste."

"POTTER!" screamed the crazed man as he sniffed the air, turning around and trying to make a lunge for me. "I don't know how you survived, but I'm going to eat your heart!"

"Who says I survived?" I asked, walking around in front of him. "And didn't you already get enough to eat? Two legs weren't enough for you?"

That's when he figured it out. Looking down at the two stumps where his legs used to be, then looking at what was left of his meal, Greyback fainted. He actually fainted, can you believe that? Big tough werewolf that he was, he passed out like a little Hogwarts firstie when he realized he had just eaten his own legs. I hate to admit it, but it put a smile on my face. When I was alive, back before that last night, I never would have taken satisfaction in torturing someone. Unfortunately for Greyback, that was then and this was now.

Summoning an ice cold bucket of water, I doused the stinking werewolf and smiled down at him as he sputtered and spit. "Don't like how I'm treating you, Greyback? You could always take me to court, but I don't think you have a leg to stand on."

I thought it was funny, but the torrent of curses that spewed from Greyback gave me the impression that he didn't agree with me. "When I heal up, I'm going to gut you, Potter!"

I had to laugh as I heard that and couldn't help correcting his mistake. "What in God's name makes you think I'm going to allow you to heal yourself? In fact, what makes you think you're going to live through the next twenty minutes?"

"You 'aven't got the balls to kill me, Potter," spat Greyback with a sneer that would have made Draco Malfoy envious. "You'll turn me over to the Ministry and my Lord will set me free in under an hour. Then I'll be coming for you!"

"Balls, huh?" I asked, playfully spinning my wand between my fingers. "Is that what you think I need to kill you? Well, that's easily remedied. _DIFFINDO!_"

You know, I used to tease Ron about screaming like a little girl whenever he saw a spider. Funny thing is, after you castrate a werewolf, they really do sound like a little girl. I'm not kidding. As Greyback grasped where his block and tackle used to be, his life's blood pouring out, I just smiled. Evidently silver is not the only thing that can kill a werewolf. It seems that if you castrate them, they don't heal and they quickly bleed to death. Who knew.

"Seems I did have the balls to kill you," I said with a hearty laugh. "Just turns out they were your balls. Have fun in Hell, Greyback. I'll be sure to send more friends for you, very soon."

And that was it. As anticlimactic as you can imagine, Fenrir Greyback died of massive blood loss due to castration. His last words, or grunt really, was something about wanting his mummy, but I doubt even she would have wanted anything to do with him. Luckily, I knew exactly who would care that he was dead. With a tap of my wand, the battle axe became a portkey, set to deliver the body to the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. Add to that a delayed charm intended to leave my calling card behind and Greyback was ready for delivery.

Moments later and I was alone in the middle of a forest, watching the sun as it slowly made its way into the heavens. Several hundred miles away a female Auror Trainee and part time Death Eater got a rather nasty surprise when she was killed by a large silver battle axe falling out of the sky and splitting her in half. When the Aurors arrived at the scene they were shocked to see the most feared werewolf in history dead at their feet. Surrounding his body in the blood of the the Auror Trainee was the shape of a large Crow.

Greyback's life was best summed up by one of the janitors that was summoned to clean up the mess when he said, "What a pile of shite."

* * *

i "The Walrus and the Carpenter," Through the Looking-Glass by Lewis Carroll


	4. Old Friends and Enemies

**The Crow: Phoenix Rising**

_By: Belcris_

_Summary: What if "the power the Dark Lord knows not" had nothing to do with love? What if it had everything to do with justice? Crossover of Harry Potter and the Crow. _

_Harry Potter created by: JK Rowling _

_The Crow created by: James O'Barr_

_I do not own these characters and I do not seek to profit from this story. I only wish to pay tribute to two great authors._

_WARNING: This story contains scenes of graphic violence, foul language, and death. Rape is implied. You have been warned._

_Category: AU. Dark Fiction._

* * *

**Chapter 4: Old Friends and Enemies**

Sitting in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts, Severus Snape was not having a good day, not good at all. Over the last few days three of the top Death Eaters in the Dark Lord's ranks had been brutally murdered. Oh, and someone had killed Dolores Umbridge as well, but that was generally considered a good thing by the Wizarding community at large. Still, the fact that each of the bodies had been found with the symbol of the Crow had Severus very worried.

Severus had spent the better part of his life researching the darker aspects of magic. During that research he had stumbled across rumors of the Avatar of Death and Justice on more than one occasion. While not exactly considered Dark magic in itself, the means that the Avatars had often used to find Justice could be rather brutal. It was in the search for more information that Severus Snape had delved deeper and deeper into areas of magic best left forgotten. In the beginning he had rationalized it as a means of protecting himself from an abusive father, but later it had become a means to asserting his power over others. It was his need for ever greater power that had originally led to his joining the Death Eaters. The very idea that he, a mere half-blood, could stand beside the most powerful purebloods was a delicious irony. When he had finally taken his Master's mark, Severus Snape had felt he could finally have anything he truly wanted.

Anything, that is, except the woman he loved. A dire mistake in his fifth year at Hogwarts had ended any chance he would ever have to be with the woman he loved. Looking back on it now, his mistake had assured James Potter an unshakeable place in Lily Evans' heart. Severus was man enough now to admit that his foolish pride and unhealthy interest in Dark magic was what drove the wedge between himself and Lily Evans. It was also what led directly to her death at the hand of his Master.

"I might as well have cast the spell myself," whispered Severus, burying his face in his hands. "I was such a fool. I couldn't even uphold my promise to protect her son."

"What promise?" asked a familiar voice that shook Severus from his musings.

Looking up from his hands, Severus Snape saw something that he had never thought to see again: Harry Potter. It had been over a year since he had last seen the young man before him. The last time had been the night Severus had killed Dumbledore on the old Headmaster's orders. Now, here Harry sat with his pale skin and harlequin face paint. The horrible sense of power and determination that poured off Harry was enough to make Severus want to crawl under his desk and weep for every sin he had ever commited.

"How is this possible, Potter?"

"Oh, you know, magic," replied Harry with an exaggerated smirk. "Mighty handy little things it does too. Lets a person return from the dead to avenge their death and sneak through wards and such. It's actually really cool."

That moment was when Severus finally understood what he was seeing. Glancing over to the empty perch that Fawkes had once used, Severus saw the truth of it in the form of a crow. This was not the boy that Severus had tormented in a vain attempt to punish his dead rival. No, this was the Avatar of Death and Justice, and if he was here then it was a sure sign that Severus was only moments away from death.

"Are you here to kill me, Potter?"

"I haven't made up my mind yet, Snape. On the one hand, you killed Dumbledore and you were supposed to be there the night Ginny and I were killed. On the other hand," he continued with a negligent wave of his hand towards the crow, "she says I should hear you out before I use your guts as a jump rope. If I were you though, I would talk fast because I really liked jumping rope as a little boy."

"I understand," Severus said, quickly turning and pointing to the portrait of Albus Dumbledore that hung on the wall behind him. "I believe Albus can clear this up rather quickly."

"I don't think so," growled Harry.

Before Severus could even blink, the Sword of Gryffindor crashed through the glass of its display case and smacked into Harry's open hand. A second later and the blade was once again flying through the air. Severus nearly lost control of his bowels as he watched the blade fly past his head and bury itself into the portrait of Albus Dumbledore, right where the portrait's mouth was starting to open in a plea that would never be heard.

"I didn't ask for Albus' manipulations, Snape!" growled Harry. "As the Headmaster of Hogwarts, you have power over all the portraits. I don't want to hear lies from a hollow memory. I WANT THE TRUTH!"

"_Oh shite,"_ thought Severus as Harry leapt over his desk and grabbed him by the throat.

Severus knew what this was. This was the physical Legilimency of the Avatar. The ability to bypass any mental shields and see the absolute truth was what had encouraged Severus to master Legilimency and Occlumency, but even that mastery was useless now. Severus could feel his mind being ransacked, his every secret revealed. It seemed like hours that Harry Potter sifted through Severus' mind, but it was really only a matter of seconds. Finally done looking through his mind, Harry backed away with a look of rage in his eyes that made the former Potions Master pray that his death would at least be quick.

"You absolute bastard!" roared Harry, but it was not aimed at Severus.

Reaching out and grabbing the hilt of the Sword of Gryffindor, Harry wrenched it from the portrait. With the sword removed, the image of Albus Dumbledore moved away from the tear and took on its most Grandfatherly pose. Severus watched as the image started to speak, but was totally unprepared when Harry began hacking at the portrait's frame.

"No!" shouted the portrait. "You cannot do this, Harry! I know you better than you know yourself. You cannot just ignore what I have to say to you."

"Would you tell me about the Horcruxes, old man?" asked Harry as he continued to hack away at the frame until the portrait fell free and landed on the ground at his feet. "Would you tell me where my death and the death of the woman I love played into your 'Greater Good'? Would you tell me how many mistakes you've made and how the ones involving me were the worst? No, Albus, you will tell me nothing!"

"Please, Harry," begged the portrait as Harry began dragging it towards the fireplace. "Don't do this! I had to do what I did!"

"And I have to do what I have to do, old man," replied Harry as Severus watched. "The Harry you know died and was replaced with the Avatar of Death and Justice. What I do now, I do in the name of Justice. You can't be allowed to continue manipulating people! Justice demands you be silenced, once and for all."

"No!" screamed the portrait as Harry tossed it into the fireplace. "You still need me! You can't do this to me!"

"It's already done," hissed Harry, pulling a wand from his robes and pointing it at the portrait. "_INCENDIO!_"

Severus watched in stunned silence as the portrait of Albus Dumbledore began screaming. He watched as the painting finally stopped moving and went silent. Then, with a few magical sparks, the portrait turned to ash and vanished into the flames. Much to his shock, the other portraits in the room began clapping and shouting their approval. One portrait could even be heard saying, "about time the manipulative old bastard got what was coming to him."

"Why?" asked Severus as Harry turned around to look at him.

Harry held up the wand he had used to light the fireplace and Severus recognized it as Albus' wand. "As the Avatar of Death and Justice, I was instructed to collect the wand while I was here. It's too powerful to remain in a crypt until some madman comes to claim it. Contrary to what that old fraud thought, it will never lose its power. Eventually some other fool would stumble across it and the cycle of death and violence would begin again. No, in my current state I am the ultimate representation of Death, so I'll be taking the Elder Wand with me when I leave and that will be the end of it. Unfortunately, as I removed it from its resting place I happened to brush my hand against the hand of the dearly departed former Headmaster."

Harry's anger was obvious as he walked over to stand next to the perch the Crow was resting on. "Albus was not an evil man, but he was a very manipulative man. When I touched his body, I knew his plans, his hopes, and his dreams. Even in death he hoped to continue controlling us, Snape."

"What do you mean?" asked the still shaken former Potions Master.

Harry sighed, stroking the feathers of the resting crow, before he looked up at his former teacher. "His death was to be the first part of a complex strategy aimed at ridding the world of Voldemort. His death would start the plan moving, and my death would have seen the end of it."

Snape already knew this, as the Headmaster had shared his theory that Harry was a Horcrux. Still, Severus had always held hope that Lily's son could be saved from the dark fate Albus had seen in store for him. Yet in the end, that fate had been unavoidable, and Harry had died at the hands of the Dark Lord. Harry's death had been the final straw for the Wizarding world and days after his body was put on display at the Ministry, Voldemort had been crowned absolute ruler of the British magical community.

That was when the Muggles had begun to fight back. As powerful as Voldemort was, the Muggle military was not something they could just ignore. Overconfident after killing numerous unarmed Muggles, Voldemort had assumed that he was unstoppable. One squadron of fast moving jets, a full load of air to ground missiles, and an extremely mad Prime Minister had disabused Voldemort of an easy victory. Not even Voldemort with all his power had been able to stop the Muggle military aircraft flying faster than the speed of sound from decimating his legions of giants as they approached London. In one horribly bloody afternoon, the giants of legend had been rendered extinct and Voldemort had learned the meaning of fear.

The following months had seen an increase of Muggle "terrorist" attacks in their news. It had also seen a rise in counterattacks by the Muggle military. So far the Magical world was still invisible to the average Muggle civilian, but the same could not be said for their governments and military. Witches and Wizards from around the world now lived in fear that a war being fought against one madman would destroy their way of life and expose them to unknown perils. No one knew when the final war between the Magical and Muggle world begin. It would not be a long war, but it would be the last war for the Magical world. That was, unless someone managed to stop Voldemort and his forces.

"The problem is," continued Harry, "he didn't take into account the fact that he could make a mistake. He made a mistake when he trusted my luck to last forever. It never occurred to him that I would put my love of Ginny, of anyone, before the mission he set for me. That was his mistake, not understanding that I was human. For his "Greater Good," everyone was expendable, including me in the end. You were as much a victim as I was."

"But why destroy his portrait?" asked Severus as he watched the flames in the fireplace.

"After my death he probably remained pretty quiet, right?"

Severus nodded and Harry continued. "That's because he had no use for you unless I was alive. Without me to fulfill the prophecy, he was content to sit back and watch the world fall apart. It never occurred to him to try to help you, or help the students. No, he was just going to wait until someone else came along to solve his little Dark Lord problem. With my return, he would have thrown your life away in an instant if it helped his precious 'Greater Good.'"

"But you are back," began Severus, turning to look at Harry once again. "You will stop the Dark Lord, won't you?"

"Oh, I'll stop him," growled Harry. "But it's going to be on my terms and for my own reasons. I'm going to stop him because he was the one that gave the order to kill Ginny. I'm going to stop him because he has sinned greatly against countless unnamed victims and their blood calls out for justice. Most of all, I'm going to stop him because he has just really fucking pissed me off!"

"So, couldn't he have helped us?"

"No," answered Harry with a firm shake of his head. "He would have continued to maneuver us until we were dead and his little plan was complete. Then, once Voldemort was dead and us along with him, he would have manipulated the next generation. It would have never stopped because with each passing year he would have become more convinced that only he knew what was right. That's why I destroyed his portrait. Not because I was angry with him, but because in his own way he was even more dangerous than dear old Tom. The world is better off without the immortal portrait of the Lightest Dark Lord in history."

"And what of me, Harry?" asked Severus, dreading the answer to his question. "Is the world better off without me as well?"

Harry looked up at his former professor with a humorless grin before turning and heading towards the door. "You, I'm letting you live. You've paid a far heavier price than I ever had to. I had to watch the woman I loved be raped and killed, then get stabbed in the heart with a knife. You, on the other hand, were responsible for the woman you love being murdered. I know that my love waits for me on the other side, but with the way you've led your life I think we both know that the only thing waiting for you is the silence of the grave. You can either fix your mistakes, or you're fucked. Justice served. Have a nice day!"

Severus watched as Harry stepped through his office door. He knew that what the boy had said was true. No matter what he did to atone for his past sins, he was damned to die alone and forgotten because of what he had done to the Potters. He had selfishly thought being a spy for the Order of the Phoenix would be enough to see him rewarded someday, but Harry had pointed out that he would still not be with Lily when it was time for his next great adventure. No, unless he truly and honestly tried to change his life, Severus would be damned no matter what he did.

"I will not fail you again, Lily," swore Severus. "Nor will I fail you, Harry."

Spinning around, Severus grabbed a pinch of Floo powder from the fireplace mantle and through it into the dying flames calling out, "Minerva McGonagall!"

While Severus Snape was setting in motion a series of events that would free Hogwarts from the clutches of Voldemort's minions, Harry Potter was entering a mysterious room on the seventh floor. It felt strange to be here again, but no matter the bad memories the place brought to the surface, he had a job to do. So, with memories of Ginny floating in front of his eyes, Harry stepped into the Room of Requirements to retrieve the last of Voldemort's Horcruxes.

**Oh quit your pouting and let's get this over with.**

"I'm touched by the depth of your empathy," snapped Harry as he looked around the endless piles of forgotten items. "I mean it, you really know how to make a guy feel good about himself."

**Boo hoo! I'm gonna start crying any moment. Really, I mean it.**

"Sod off," groused Harry as he passed though the piles of junk.

**Seriously though, you did a good thing back there. Snape would have continued to wallow in self hate, but you lit a fire under his ass that will hopefully motivate him to change his life.**

"Yeah, well it's hard to hate a guy that feels that guilty about what he's done," replied Harry as he approached where the diadem of Ravenclaw rested. "He might be the world's biggest prat, but even he deserves a measure of Justice in his life. He made a mistake and he's paid for it over and over again. Maybe now he'll grow the fuck up and do something worthwhile with his life."

**And burning Albus' portrait?**

Harry laughed as he picked up the fabled diadem. "That was just a perk of the job. Dumbledore wasn't a bad man, but his time is past. If I hadn't gotten rid of his portrait he would have continued to meddle in the affairs of the living. It's time for a new start. He and his old guard need to leave the Magical World to their own devices. They'll either stand or fall on their own."

**True enough. The real Albus Dumbledore would have realized that, but his portrait would have continued to coddle the old ways until it was too late to save them. You did the right thing, Harry.**

"Whatever," mumbled Harry, wondering how it was possible to still blush now that he was dead. "Why don't you just do your thing and get rid of this stinking thing."

Throwing the diadem into the air, Harry watched as once again the Crow opened its mouth impossibly wide and swallowed the last Horcrux whole. Once again he listened to the far away sound of a soul screaming as it fell into the abyss. It felt good to know that they were only one Horcrux away from the end of Tom Riddle. Now they just needed to take care of Bellatrix and Lucius, Nagini the snake, and finally Tom himself. It was almost over with and then Harry and Ginny could be together again.

"Come on," whispered Harry, "let's get out of here."

A moment later and they were once again standing in 12 Grimmauld Place. However, unlike their previous arrivals, this time they were not alone. Harry instantly drew the Elder Wand and pointed it at the figure sitting on one of the chairs in the room. It took him a moment to realize the figure was asleep with their cloak wrapped tightly around them to keep them warm in the drafty old house.

"Oh shite," moaned Harry, recognizing the mass of bushy brown hair. "Why her? Why now?"

**They will be drawn to you just as much as you will be drawn to them. **

"Gee, that makes me feel so much better," replied Harry as he watched his friend's sleeping form. "They had to suffer through my death once, and now they'll have to suffer again when I leave. It would be better if I just took her home and she never had to see me like this."

**It doesn't work that way, Harry, and you know it.**

"Sod off," grumbled Harry.

Knowing what he had to do, Harry silently walked over to the sleeping young woman and reached out a hand to her. He knew that of all the people he had touched, Hermione's memories and feelings would hurt the most. If Ginny's love was the Sun that warmed his heart, Hermione was the Earth that supported him. Between the two of them, Hermione and Ginny had taught him what it meant to love. She was his sister in all but blood, and that love was going to burn hotter than anything he had seen yet.

As his hand made contact with her hair, Harry's world dissolved into pain. It was not physical pain, but pure and undiluted emotional pain. He saw her break down when she and Ron realized that he had not escaped with them from the Burrow. Then he watched as she found out the next morning that Ginny and he were murdered the night before. This was followed by memories of her sneaking to the Ministry building to see his body on display for all to see. If he had not already been returned from the dead, experiencing her pain would have surely killed Harry again.

Next were the memories of Hermione and Ron trying to find the remaining Horcruxes, but being unable to locate them. They had fought their way through numerous dangerous situations, but without Harry there to encourage them and lead them, their attempts were futile. Finally, Harry watched them make a run for France when the Ministry made it illegal to be a Muggle-born. Most heart breaking of all were the memories of how she and Ron had finally gone their separate ways because both felt too guilty about Harry's death to stay together any longer. Now, after a year in hiding with Ron in France, she had heard the rumors of someone killing Death Eaters and she had returned in the hopes that her best friend had returned though some vagary of magic.

"Oh God, Hermione," moaned Harry, his legs giving out and falling to the ground. "I swear, I never wanted to leave you and Ron to go through all that alone. This is all my fault. If I hadn't been such a fool, maybe none of this would have happened."

"If you hadn't tried to save her, you wouldn't be the man you are," answered Hermione, her eyes now wide open. "My best friend, no, my brother would never have forgiven himself if he hadn't at least tried to save the woman he loved."

"In other words," replied Harry with a dry chuckle, "I'm a big prat?"

"Yep!" agreed Hermione. "But we wouldn't have you any other way."

Holding his arms open to her, Hermione leapt into Harry's arms and buried her face in his shoulder. They remained like that for a long time, both holding tightly to the other as their tears fell. When they finally broke apart, Harry helped Hermione to her feet and they made their way over to the couch where they sat down next to each other. They huddled together as two lost and lonely children would in the face of the unknown. Eventually they fell asleep like that, each so emotionally drained that they could no longer keep their eyes open. It was morning by the time they opened their eyes again.

"Good morning, Harry," yawned Hermione as she hugged him tightly.

"Morning, Hermione," replied Harry. "Might I say, you've got horrendous morning breath? Coming from a dead guy, that's saying something."

"Prat!" swore Hermione, playfully punching his arm. "And you're not dead, so quit joking."

Harry turned to her and looked deeply into her eyes. "Yes I am, Hermione. You saw my body in the Ministry, the knife still buried in my heart. I died a year ago, and you know it. What I am now is just a tool of Justice."

"No," argued Hermione with a shake of her head. "That can't be true. You can't be dead because there is no magic to bring the dead back to life. The closest you can get is an Inferi, and that's just a magically animated corpse."

"That's what I am, Hermione," continued Harry. "I'm just a corpse brought back or a short amount of time in order to make sure that my killers get the Justice they deserve. Come on, you're the smartest witch of our age, so you must have heard about the Avatars of Death and Justice?"

Hermione gasped as Harry's words sank in. As she full grasped what he was saying, Hermione's tears began again. She grabbed hold of him so tightly that Mrs. Weasley would have been jealous. All Harry could do was gently rub her back and whisper soothingly until she calmed down enough to stop crying.

"It's not fair, Harry," she sniffled. "You didn't deserve this."

"No one deserves this, Hermione," asserted Harry. "My life was never fair, but at least I had people in it that loved me. Now I'm here to make the world a better place for the ones I loved in return."

"But then you'll leave me again," wailed the now sobbing girl. "I don't want to lose you again, Harry. You were my first real friend and the brother I always wanted. It's not fair!"

"I know it hurts, but you've got to realize that I'm so tired," Harry said, rocking Hermione in his arms as he spoke. "We're not meant to come back here once we're gone. As much as I will miss you and everyone else, I want to rest and I want to be with Ginny again. She's waiting for me when I'm done here, Hermione. Ginny is waiting for me in a place where we cannot be hurt anymore."

"But the things you have to do, Harry!" insisted Hermione, her head still buried in his chest. "It's not right! You're becoming just like them!"

"I tried it your way, Hermione," argued Harry, "and Ginny and I paid the ultimate price for it. Odd thing death, it really makes you rethink your life. They killed us for their own sick pleasure. I kill for Justice."

"It's still killing, Harry!" objected Hermione, looking up at him with tears in her eyes. "You shouldn't have to be the one to do this!"

"Even if they hadn't killed me that night, it was always going to come down to me and Tom," replied Harry with a sad smile. "The only difference is that now I have a few more names on my list before I get to him. I may not like it, but that's the way things are now."

"Can you even stop him when the time comes?" asked Hermione, hope suddenly in her eyes. "I mean it could take years to find all his Horcruxes. You would have to stay until you found them all, right?"

Harry shook his head sadly, looking in her eyes. "Sorry, Hermione, but I've already recovered all of them except Nagini. After I visit Bellatrix and Lucius, I'll stop by to see Tommy Boy before I leave for good. At most we're talking about four days before I'm with Ginny again."

"No!" screamed Hermione, her fists pounding on Harry's chest. "You can't leave so soon! It's all my fault! I should have held onto you tighter that night. If I hadn't let go you wouldn't be forced to do this. You, me, and Ron would be…"

"It's not our fault," countered Harry. "It was just my time. Who's to say that if the three of us had escaped that night that things wouldn't have been worse? You did nothing wrong that night, so you don't need to feel guilty."

"But," began Hermione began only to be cut off by Harry again.

"No buts, Hermione," growled Harry. "You and Ron are my best friends in all the world. If anyone is to blame for what happened that night, it's me. You two have nothing to feel guilty about, I mean it!"

"It was never the same again once you were gone," whispered Hermione, burying her face in his chest again. "We tried, but we couldn't do the things you could. When we finally ran away, it killed us inside to leave your behind. It felt like we were betraying your memory. One day we just couldn't look each other in the eyes anymore. I knew then that whatever I might have had with Ron was gone. I packed up my things and took off after that. I wanted to go find my parents, but I knew it wasn't safe for them, so I just wandered alone through Europe. Then I heard about someone killing Death Eaters and I knew I had to come back."

"I know," whispered Harry, hugging his friend tightly. "I saw it all when I first touched you. It's the curse of the Avatars to experience the lives of those we touch."

"Then you know I can't lose my brother again," cried Hermione. "I don't want to be alone anymore, Harry! Not a night goes by that I'm not scared I'll be caught. I've been running for a year, and I just want to be safe again."

Harry did not know what to say, so he just held his friend tightly in his arms. Soon enough she was asleep again and he carried her upstairs to her old room. A few quick waves of the Elder Wand and the room was once again clean. Harry tucked the emotionally drained young woman into bed before stepping outside and closing the door behind him.

**That one has suffered a great deal since your death.**

Harry felt the familiar weight of the Crow as it settled onto his shoulder. "I know. The question is, what can I do to help her in the time I have left?"

**You can do what you always do, Harry.**

"Oh yeah?" asked Harry looking up at the bird. "What's that?"

**You can be a hero.**


	5. The Lady is a Tramp

**The Crow: Phoenix Rising**

_By: Belcris_

_Summary: What if "the power the Dark Lord knows not" had nothing to do with love? What if it had everything to do with justice? Crossover of Harry Potter and the Crow. _

_Harry Potter created by: JK Rowling _

_The Crow created by: James O'Barr_

_I do not own these characters and I do not seek to profit from this story. I only wish to pay tribute to two great authors._

_WARNING: This story contains scenes of graphic violence, foul language, and death. Rape is implied. You have been warned._

_Category: AU. Dark Fiction._

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**_Correction:_**

_The version of this chapter that was originally posted here was not the final version. If you have read this chapter before, you might want to read it again._

_Chris :)_

_5/1/2010_

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Chapter 5: The Lady is a Tramp

Last night was a rough one. Hermione woke up several times, crying and confused. I spent most of the night holding her, tying to convince her that it was going to be alright. I finally managed to convince her that things would be better in the morning, but funny thing is, I didn't even believe it myself. By the time Hermione was out for good it was too late to actually get any "work" done. Evidently, according to my feather duster of a companion, even psychotic killers need sleep.

Oh, before you wonder, I was talking about the Death Eaters when I mentioned psychotic killers. I am not psychotic, though I am currently narrating my own life to a bunch of imaginary readers. What does that really say about me?

Anyway, after I finally got Hermione to sleep, I made my way downstairs to the kitchen. From the look of things, the last person to use this place was probably Mrs. Weasley and that was before I died. The closest thing to food in the pantry is a piece of dried cheese in a broken mousetrap. Now personally, I haven't felt the need to eat anything since I woke up, rose from the dead, or whatever you want to call it, but I'm guessing Hermione is going to get hungry eventually. Unfortunately, given how I look, it's not like I can run down to the local grocer for a bag of crisps and a juice. Then again, given some of the things I've seen some of the Muggle teens wearing, the grocer might not even notice me.

"Maybe I should send her to the Burrow?" I ask a solitary spider as it crawls across the pantry floor. "And why am I always talking to spiders?"

**Talking to yourself, Harry?**

Looking over my shoulder, I see the Crow sitting on the back of one of the dusty kitchen chairs. "No, I was talking to the spider."

**And did it say anything back?**

"Yes it did," I reply, with a smirk that Draco Malfoy would be proud of. "It told me to tell you to sod off."

**Cute, Harry. Really cute.**

I watch as the Crow takes wing and leaves the room. I get a chuckle out of giving my mystical guide a hard time, but I know I wouldn't be here if she hadn't brought me back. I also know that my time is limited. Since this all started I've felt that my time among the living is running out, rather like I think a watch feels as its spring slowly unwinds. Honestly, I'm glad it is. What I said to Hermione was true, I'm tired. Poking fun at the Crow is just a way of taking my mind off it for a little while, but the truth is that being here again hurts. I don't know where I was before she brought me back. Maybe it was Heaven, or maybe it was Hell. Whatever the truth is, at least I didn't hurt anymore. At least I could rest. I can't do that here and every day I feel a little more exhausted.

"Myrtle or Nick might understand," I murmur to myself as I close the pantry.

Walking back upstairs I glance around at the dingy wallpaper and dust covered furniture. Grimmauld Place has probably sat empty since Dumbledore's death, but it feels like it's been empty for a lot longer. I think the spirit of the house, that feeling of belonging that exists in a real home, has been gone for a very long time. I'm really surprised that Sirius didn't go mad when he was trapped here before his death. I've only been here a few days and I already want to burn it to the ground. Maybe I will right before I leave for the last time.

Taking a seat on the couch I found Hermione on, I look around and wonder if there was ever a time when this house was full of laughter and love. That's when it hits me. When we were all together here, all the Weasleys, Sirius, Hermione, and me, that's when this place was alive. We were the family that this house had been waiting for. It's too bad that we never had the chance to clean this place up and make it a real home again. But, just like my life, this house went through a long period of darkness before it was filled with the love of a family. And just like my life, it was all taken away far too soon. Now, for a short amount of time, we are both getting to experience what it feels to be alive again.

Looking around the room, I can't help but talk to the old house. "Soon we'll both be able to rest again. For me it will mean the grave and maybe seeing Ginny again, but what for you?"

Now I know that magic is sort of the catch all for the things that happen around me, but when the fireplace suddenly lights, that's a sign. If I had to guess, I would say that Grimmauld Place is just as tired as I am. I think when I'm gone, it's going to go as well. I better make sure Hermione isn't here when that happens.

Hermione…

Now there's a problem with no quick and easy solution. Hermione is one of my best mates, but she's a complete mess right now. My death really messed with her head. All the confidence that she once had is pretty much gone now, replaced with fear and doubt. That's the reason why she and Ron couldn't find the Horcruxes. It wasn't because they lacked the pieces to the puzzle. No, it was because they were too afraid to take the risks required. I can't say I really blame them after what happened to me. Still, I don't want Hermione to feel she like she failed me, because she didn't. No one failed me. Life just isn't fair sometimes and no one is to blame for that.

Well… that's not exactly true. My life was like a train wreck that started when I was a year old and lasted for sixteen years. The man who set that in motion is still out there terrorizing other people. Voldemort has ruined lots lives, just like he ruined mine. That's the real reason I'm back, to make sure that he gets the measure of Justice that he's been avoiding for far too long. He should have gone to Hell seventeen years ago, but he managed to avoid it. Now, with my return, his time is running out just like mine is. In the end, neither of us can survive while the other lives.

You know, if you think about it, I really wasn't his equal until I died and came back, just like he did. Yeah, he marked me, but I think the second time was the one that really counted. Now I'm back, just like him, and I've got a power he can't possibly know, or understand. I mean, really, I don't even understand what it means to be the Avatar of Death and Justice, so how could he possibly understand it. Hell, he's been running away from death since the day he was old enough to know what death was. So there you go, prophecy explained and ready to be fulfilled. Only thing is, I'm not going to live once he's gone, so that last part it bollocks.

**Harry. While Hermione is sleeping, we're needed somewhere.**

"We've got all the Horcruxes save Nagini, so I'm guessing this has to do with someone else on our list of naughty children?" I ask, standing up and stretching.

**Oh yes, this one is most definitely on our list. **

I walk over and pickup my things from where I dumped them the night before, then turn around and ask, "Are you going to tell me who we're going after this time?"

**I'm going to let it be a surprise.**

A moment later and we are standing in front of one of the last houses I thought I would ever see again. It took me a moment to overcome the shock at being there, but I managed it. As a small child I had nightmares about this place and the monsters within. I still carried the scars of the numerous battles and attacks that had been fought and lost here. It was, needless to say, one of my least favorite places in the world.

"You brought me to my Aunt Marge's house?" I finally asked, looking up at the Crow on my shoulder. "So, what, this means I get to show her a little justice?"

**No, though she is deserving of it,** replied the Crow. **Turn around and look across the street.**

Still a little shocked to be seeing Aunt Marge's dump again, I turned around and for the second time in one morning thought I must be dreaming, or at least having a nightmare. Directly across from Marge's house, in what I had always thought was a very large vacant lot, stood the ugliest and nastiest looking house I had ever seen. If Grimmauld Place was a rundown mess, this place was Hell on Earth.

"What's the saying?" I asked the Crow. "If I owned this place and Hell, I'd rent out this place and live in Hell?"

**That about sums it up perfectly.**

"So, who lives here?"

Walking towards the gate that surrounded the property, I looked up at the large three story house and wondered what type of person could let a house fall this far into disrepair. Of course, that got me to thinking about my thoughts about Grimmauld Place. Evidently being dead makes you think of things like this, the aspects of being alive. I mean, when you are alive you surround yourself with memories of your life. Seeing places like this and Grimmauld place, as opposed to places like the Burrow, just made me realize how much life the living really wasted.

**Oh, the owner of this charming little honeymoon bungalow is someone you've been wanting to talk to for quite some time, Harry.**

"Spit it out already!" I demanded, already sick of all the cryptic crap.

**Bellatrix Lestrange**.

That's all it took. No more angst ridden thoughts about old houses. No more weighty contemplation about the meaning of life. No, now it was all about getting that bitch's throat in my hand so I could inflict as much fucking pain as possible without killing her. You might be surprised that I didn't want her dead, but like Dumbledore said once, "there are far worse things than death."

"_I just happen to be one of them,"_ I thought as the Crow flew off and I leapt over the gate.

**What are you going to do to her, Harry?**

"Oh, I'm sure I think of some way to make her outside match her inside."

The night I was killed, Bellatrix was the one that captured Ginny. It was Bellatrix that tortured me and Ginny until we couldn't fight back anymore. And it was Bellatrix that made sure that as the others raped and abused Ginny, that not only could she not fight back, but that I was forced to watch it all. I couldn't even pass out from the pain because Bellatrix wouldn't let me. So, listening to her little baby voice as she taunted me while making suggestions to the others, Bellatrix was the one that truly earned my wrath that night.

The moment the Crow told me who was inside this shack, I knew what I was going to do. It was mean, it was cruel, and it was perfect. Bellatrix had facilitated the rape and murder of the woman that I love and now she was going to get her just reward. Normally, as if my life could actually be considered normal, I would have just killed her. However, what I had in mind for Bellatrix was going to be far worse than merely killing her.

"_Oh, yeah, she's going to pay for her crimes,"_ I thought as I approached the front of the house.

Drawing the Elder Wand from its hiding place in my sleeve, I cast a few spells to make sure we wouldn't be disturbed. It wouldn't do for someone to stumble in on us while I was "talking" with dear Bella. No, I wanted plenty of time to be alone with the woman that had caused me so much heartache. She was responsible for the death of Sirius and then Ginny. Oh yes, I wanted there to be no interruptions.

It didn't take much to get past the wards around the outside of the house. As the Avatar of Death and Justice, I don't really qualify as a Wizard or a Muggle, so wards created to keep them out were useless against me. A few little transfigurations to turn a stone into a ladder and a blade of grass into a knife was all it took to climb up to a second story window and pry the window open. Just like that I was inside.

Ok, there are a few things in life that I NEVER want to think about. One of those things is Bellatrix Lestrange having sex. Unfortunately for me, the second door I opened was the door to the master suite. Now, I've seen some strange things in my life, but the sight of Bellatrix Lestrange in a Muggle schoolgirl outfit takes the cake. I mean really, white knee socks, Mary Janes, and pigtails are not a look I ever would have expected to see Bellatrix Lestrange wearing. Add to that the fact that her partner, maybe her husband and maybe not, was dressed exactly like Albus Dumbledore, and I was really grateful that I didn't need to eat anymore.

"I've been a naughty little girl, Professor!" screamed Bellatrix as the Dumbledore impersonator smacked her bare bottom with what looked like a wooden version of Gryfindor's sword. "You should punish me! I need to be punished!"

"Remember, little girl," said the man in a perfect imitation of Dumbledore's voice, "it's not about doing what's easy, but about doing what's really HARD!"

"OH HELL NO!" I shouted just as the look alike decided his wooden sword was not the only thing he needed to use on Bellatrix. "_Stupefy! Stupefy!_"

I watched as the two bodies hit the ground and wondered how exactly I was going to get that image out of my head. Seriously, I would rather have one of my visions of Voldemort than have to remember THAT sight. Walking over I kicked the guy in the stomach a few times, payback for looking like Dumbledore and for putting that image in my head. As for Bella, I reached down and pulled her skirt down so I didn't have to look at… well… THAT anymore. My mistake was forgetting what touching Bellatrix was going to trigger.

In a flash of memories so vile that I doubt even the darkest of souls could handle it, I saw that night through her eyes. I watched as she cursed Ginny, freezing her in place so her fellow Death Eaters could take their turns with the woman I love. I felt her getting excited as she listened to Ginny and me screaming and crying. Hell, I even knew that she had wanted a go at me before Voldemort killed me, but had held back for fear the others would take advantage of her. That's the sickest part of her memories, that Bellatrix's deepest and darkest fear was that of being raped by her fellow Death Eaters. Sure, playing games in a controlled environment like her own home was fine, but the thought of her fellow Death Eaters turning against her and raping her was a nightmare that had played out repeatedly in her mind since she joined Voldemort's forces. Yet even with that thought in her mind that night, she had helped them to rape Ginny.

"She's got to pay," I growled, grabbing hold of and dragging Bellatrix and her friend from the room. "She let them do to Ginny what she herself feared. She has to pay for that."

**And she will, one way or another.**

Looking over my shoulder I saw that the Crow had landed on Bellatrix's foot. I swear from the way the bird was trembling, it was laughing at how uncomfortable I was at the moment. I also noticed that the Dumbledore clone had changed his appearance. Imagine my surprise when the glamour fell away and the image of Albus Dumbledore was replaced with that of Stan Shunpike. Now I had gone head to head with the Minister of Magic to get this guy released from jail, and even after he attacked me a few days before my death I still thought he was just under the Imprius curse. Yet for all that, here he was shagging Bellatrix Lestrange?

"And I thought my life was a mess," I sighed, dropping Stan to the floor and pulling Bellatrix a bit further way. "I mean, I had no control over most of my life, but you chose this? What's up with that?"

Stunning Bellatrix twice more to make sure she didn't wake up any time soon I left her by the front door, turned back around, and stepped over to where I had left Stan's unconscious body. Part of me hoped he really was under the Imperious curse, but there are only so many times someone can be connected to the Death Eaters before you just have to wonder if they really are what everyone else says they are. Kneeling down next to him I lifted up the sleeve of his right arm and sure enough, clear as day, there was the Dark Mark.

I've never bought that whole, "Voldemort forced me to do it," argument. As far as I'm concerned, if you wear the mark, you are His slave. That being the case, I cast a few charms and soon had Stan tied up on the floor. I'm not sure what I wanted to do with him, but for wearing the Mark he had some questions to answer.

"_Rennervate__i_!" I bellowed with a flick of the Elder Wand.

"W-wuh?" Stand mumbled as his eyes blinked several times, before looking around and then up at me with a sneer. "Do you have any idea what you've done? You've signed your death warrant."

"Oh, I wouldn't go that far, Stanley," I laughed, crouching down on the ground in front of him so I could look him right in the eyes. "I will say though, I'm really impressed with your lack of an accent. Last time I saw you it was so thick you could have cut it with a knife."

"Sorry, Guvnor," drawled Stanley, his eyes taking on a dull appearance before clearing and taking on a cruel gleam. "What better way to pick up information than posing as an uneducated buffoon. I'll have you know I graduated from Hogwarts at the top of my year before attending Oxford."

"Pull the other one, Stanley," I scoffed. "You're only a few years younger than me and I know you were working on that fucking bus before Voldemort's return."

"You dare say the Dark Lord's name!" screamed Stanley. "He'll…"

"He'll what?" I cut him off. "He'll kill me again? Been there and done that, it was actually quite refreshing."

"Who are you?" whispered Stan, trying to see past the pasty white skin and black lines. I knew the moment he figured it out, the moment he saw the blood red scar on my forehead. "Oh, bugger me."

"Nope, sorry Stanley my boy, but you're not my type," was my witty reply as I stood back up. "I guess it's safe to say you took that mark willingly, no matter what your bullshit story is, right?"

"Fine," grunted Stanley. "So I didn't graduate at the top of my Hogwarts class or go to Oxford, but I am truly gifted with the Imperio curse. A little acting to make myself look like a fool and I ended up working on the Knight Bus, robbing the rabble for all they were worth. I got the idea from Gilderoy Lockhart. I can't cast a memory charm to save my life, but I could make old women change their wills to make me the sole recipient of their estates."

"Let me get this straight," I said quietly, feeling my temper start to boil. "You swindled old ladies out of their estates by using the Imperio to force them to give it to you?"

Stanley shrugged saying, "Yeah, basically. It's not like they needed it after they were dead. And if someone just happened to knock them off a little early, like Bella once she got out of Azkaban, well so much the better for me."

"And the Bellatrix thing?" I asked with a shudder, remember what I had walked in on.

Stanley just shrugged, replying, "Well, she thinks I'm harmless and I think she's hot. As long as I let her set the rules, I get to play all I want. Now where's the harm in that?"

"Stan, may I call you that?" I asked, not caring what his answer was going to be. "You're a sick fuck. I actually fought with the Minister of Magic to get you out of jail and now it turns out that you're a con man that takes advantage of people. Top it off, you then arrange for them to be killed so you can benefit from the misery of their families. Suddenly, I don't feel so guilty about what I'm going to do to you. _IMPERIO_!"

An hour later, a command to write down nothing but the truth, three more stunners for Bellatrix, and a pile of parchment the size of a horse, Stanley Shunpike had divulged the names of all the people he had swindled. One last command to him, compelling him to take all of his confessions to the goblins, and he was on his way to his own version of justice. Oh, did I mention the tattoo of a crow that I permanently placed on his forehead?

Once Stan was merrily on his way, it was time to deal with Bellatrix. For my plan to work, no one could ever come looking for her. This was easily solved by transfiguring a stick from the front yard into a perfect copy of her. I can't take all the credit for the idea as the Crow and the Elder Wand made it all possible, but it was my idea. With Bellatrix's body double safely tucked in her bed, it was time to set my plan in motion. All I had to do was carry Bellatrix outside and across the street to Marge's house. I cast a Notice-Me-Not charm on her before heading back across the street.

Once again I got a lot of suggestions from my avian friend which allowed me to fine tune my plans. You see, Aunt Marge likes to take the meanest of her bitches and breed them until the poor dog can't give birth anymore. Well Bellatrix is definitely the meanest bitch I know, so it seems like a perfect fit to me. All it would take were a few permanent transfigurations, a slight memory modification, and a compulsion charm for dear old Aunt Marge, and Bella would spend the next twenty or so years as Marge's brand new breeding phenomenon.

Dragging Bellatrix around to the kennels I looked in the window of her house and saw my dear auntie passed out in her favorite chair. Ripper, her pride and joy, was asleep at her side. Knowing them both, she was probably passed out from too much brandy and Ripper had finished his fair share as well. That would work out perfectly. In fact, it was going to work out even better than that.

Finding an empty cage, I dragged Bellatrix inside and began stripping her. Being a guy I could appreciate the sight of an attractive woman. Too bad for Bellatrix, but no matter how incredible her body might be, her soul was dark enough to make her ugly no matter how she looked. Add to that the memories of what happened to Ginny and I just couldn't enjoy her nakedness. Although, I was surprised that she had Sirius' name tattooed on her left breast with a heart around it. Talk about being just plain wrong.

"I knew she was messed up, but that is just sick," I muttered to myself before pointing my wand at her. "_Petrificus Totalus!_"

A little known fact about the Full Body Bind curse is that once the person is frozen in place, you can pose them any way you want. It didn't take me long to have her on all fours with her head looking up at me, so she would see me the moment she woke up. Then, transfiguring her clothes into a collar similar to the ones Aunt Marge put on all her dogs, I fastened it around her throat with a brand new tag declaring her name as, "Bella."

"Yep," I said, laughing at the sight before me. "You are in for one heck of a treat, little baby Bella. _Rennervate!"_

Okay, so in my life there are a few things I consider as special memories. The first was seeing Hogwarts for the first time. The second was becoming friends with Ron and Hermione. The third was getting my first broom. The fourth was finding out Sirius was my Godfather. The fifth was kissing Ginny for the first time. And now, after everything I've seen and done, the sixth was watching Bellatrix Lestrange open her eyes, recognize me, figure out she was in deep shit, and then piss herself. What can I say, it's the simple things in life that really bring joy my life.

"It's so good to see you again, Bella," I said with a smile. "I've really missed seeing you and now, to see you like this, just fills my heart with joy. I mean, it's not very often you get to spend time with someone so intimately involved with the way your life turned out."

Yep, she was scared now. Not being able to speak or move was really messing with her head. I could see it in her eyes, the absolute terror that had filled her mind. If she wasn't insane before, she was now. She was struggling so hard to get free from the body bind that her body was actually starting to vibrate. Considering what I had in mind for her, I couldn't let her break free, so I was going to have to cut our reunion short.

"Let's forget the small talk, Bella," I continued, stepping back and pointing the Elder Wand at her face. "I'm not going to kill you, even though that's exactly what you deserve for everything you've done. No, I'm going to do something much worse to you. See, this is my Aunt Marge's dog kennel where she breeds English Bulldogs. I'm going to help her out a bit by giving her a new breeding female, you. You're going to spend the rest of your life being shagged by every one of her males, but you will never deliver a single litter."

Tears were now pouring from her eyes and I could hear low moans coming from her sealed mouth. "I'll put a little memory modification on my dear aunt so she doesn't remember breeding you the day before. That way, each day, she's going to let her dogs at you."

More moans from the human statue along with even stranger vibrations told me that Bellatrix was at her wits' end. Kneeling down in front of her, I released her mouth from the spell. I really wanted to hear what was going through her head right now.

"You're a dead man, Potter!" she screamed at me the moment she could open her lips.

"You know, I keep telling people I've already done that, but no one seems to believe me," was my calm reply. "I mean, you were there when your master stuck the knife in my chest, so you have to know I'm not really worried about that anymore."

Something seemed to click in her mind at that moment and she looked at me with understanding in her eyes. "It was you that killed the others! You killed Wormtail, MacNair, and Greyback?"

"Now, Bella," I scolded, in the most irritating tone I could manage. "Let's not forget Umbridge. She wouldn't like it if you forgot her."

"H-how?" she stammered.

"How did I kill them?" I asked, seeing her nod her head in clarification. "I think you know that, Bella. I staked Wormtail to a building, fed Umbridge to a few wild tigers, chopped MacNair up like a side of beef, and castrated Greyback after feeding him his own legs. What can I say, it's been a busy week. And now, I'm going to deal with you, only I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to make your worst fear, the fear of being raped, come true."

"You haven't got the balls for it, Potter," spat Bellatrix, but you could see in her eyes that she was no longer so sure of that.

"Are you serious?" I asked, surprised by what she had just said. "After everything I've done, you still don't get it, do you? This isn't revenge, Bella. This is Justice!"

"P-please!" she sobbed, finally realizing this was not going to end well for her, looking at me through her tears. "Please don't! I'll do anything, Potter! Don't do this to me, I beg you!"

"Funny," I hissed, looking right in her eyes as I pointed my wand right between her eyes. "I seem to remember that being exactly what Ginny said to you right before you let the first of your friends rape her."

I didn't let her say anything else. It took about ten minutes to finish all the spells I had in mind. There was of course the spell to change her into a dog, but that was fairly easy. Then there was the spell to make the change permanent. Another spell would prevent her from being able to communicate in any way shape or form with another human being. A series of spells would prevent her from killing herself, or even doing serious injury to herself. Oh, don't forget the spell to hide her magical signature from anyone that might come looking for her. Finally there was the spell to make sure she would never conceive with any of Aunt Marge's dogs, but be in heat continually. I wouldn't have been able to forgive myself if some poor puppy had been forced to have her as a mother.

Once Bellatrix was safely tucked away in her new cage, I removed the Full Body Bind and locked her cage behind me. It did my heart good to hear her start whining and howling as I walked away. I know she wanted to get my attention, but it wasn't going to happen. Instead I made my way inside to quickly modify Marge's memories. By the time I was done she was convinced that "Bella" was her best breeder, ensuring that Bellatrix was going to be punished for a very long time, just like she had asked for from Stanley.

"Irony is a bitch," I chuckled as I walked out of the house.

A quick spell cast across the street at Bella's house had it burning away happily as I walked down the street. Later someone would probably come looking for Bellatrix and find her "body," or what was left of it, dead in her bed. Further investigation would probably notice the fact that the area around the house also burnt in the shape of a gigantic crow, thus tying it to me. What they would never find would be a female English Bulldog in the kennel across the street being repeatedly mounted by numerous dogs, day in and day out, for some years to come. Maybe if they had they would have wondered why it looked like the poor dog was crying, or why her dog tag was in the shape of a crow. Then again, no one really cares what happens to dogs, so no one ever did notice either of those things.

As soon as I arrived back at Grimmauld Place, Hermione came running downstairs and wrapped her arms around me. She had been crying. From what I could make out between sobs and sniffles, she had woken up while I was gone and been unable to find me. Thinking I was gone again, she had freaked out. I guess I couldn't really blame her, but I did realize that I was going to have to do something about her before I left or she was not going to survive my second "death."

"I'm here now, Hermione," I whispered in her ear, hugging her tightly. "I'm here now and I will make it all better."

"_Somehow,"_ I thought as she continued to cry.

**

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Author's Note:

No, I do not believe that rape is acceptable under any circumstance. However, in the context of this story and the whole "eye for an eye" mentality that goes along with the Crow series, it was fitting.

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i Spell used to revive a person who has been hit by a Stunner.

This spell has been officially renamed by JKR from its original name. Some versions list this spell as "Enervate," which changes the etymology quite a bit. In fact, if the word was really Enervate, the Latin origins would have exactly the opposite meaning from what it meant as Ennervate.


	6. Like Father, Like Son

**The Crow: Phoenix Rising**

By: Belcris

_Summary: What if "the power the Dark Lord knows not" had nothing to do with love? What if it had everything to do with justice? Crossover of Harry Potter and the Crow. _

_Harry Potter created by: JK Rowling _

_The Crow created by: James O'Barr_

_I do not own these characters and I do not seek to profit from this story. I only wish to pay tribute to two great authors._

_WARNING: This story contains scenes of graphic violence, foul language, and death. Rape is implied. You have been warned._

_Category: AU. Dark Fiction._

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**Chapter 6: Like Father, Like Son**

Another borrowed sunrise. Sitting on the roof of Grimmauld Place, I watched as the sun rose over the skyline of London. After dealing with Bellatrix, I had found it impossible to sleep. Thankfully, I don't really need to sleep, but it does make for a good way to relax after a day of dealing out justice.

"God, I think I'm going insane," I muttered to myself.

**Could be, but then I'm thinking your mind wasn't that stable to begin with.**

"Thanks," was my dry reply, looking over at the Crow as she sat next to me on the ledge of the roof. "I really appreciate the moral support."

**No problem, Harry. It's what I do best.**

I couldn't help but laugh. I mean really, I'm dead, she's a bird and some type of mythical goddess, and we're both running around killing bad guys. How sane is that? Honestly, it sounded more like something out of a comic book than someone's actual life. No, it sounded more like a children's book written by a single mother to entertain her kids while she looked for a decent job. Or, maybe it was a cross between the two. I just hoped they got someone good-looking to play me when they made the movie.

Either way, it was my life and right now it was almost done. All that was left to deal with was Lucius Malfoy and his master. Oh, and let's not forget the last of Voldemort's Horcruxes, Nagini. Then it was over and I could return to Ginny in the afterlife. I just hoped there really was an afterlife and this wasn't all some messed up dream. Given the fact that the Crow had brought me back from somewhere, I was fairly convinced this wasn't a dream, but who could say for sure. Things always did have a way of turning out strangely in my life.

Take yesterday afternoon for example. After returning from my little errand, Hermione had been almost impossible to deal with. It had taken me almost an hour to get her to calm down enough to talk to her. Then I had to explain to her, again, that I wasn't back for good. After who knows how many attempts, she just could not seem to accept that there was not a solution to the situation that would allow me to stay after my job was done. Hermione was convinced, in typical fashion for her, that somewhere there was a book that held an answer she could accept. Not even the Crow telling her that I was living on borrowed time would convince her.

"Listen, Hermione," I had finally said. "I'm dead. Ginny's dead. After I kill two more people, I'm gone. Forever! There is no changing that! I wouldn't even if I could. I'm not supposed to be here anymore, Hermione. I'm supposed to be with Ginny, taking part in whatever the next great adventure might be."

"B-but…" she stammered before taking a deep breath and launching into one of her famous lectures. "There are so many people here that you could help and who miss you so much. Just look at Mrs. Weasley. She has been so upset since the night you and Ginny left."

"We didn't leave," I interrupted. "We were brutally murdered after Ginny was repeatedly raped by Death Eaters."

"That's what I said," continued Hermione. "Since that night, so many people have needed your help."

"I'm not a savior, Hermione," I interrupted again. "There are other people out there capable of fighting. I do my job, kill Voldemort, and they can take care of the rest."

Hermione looked like she was trying to figure out an argument against what I had just said, but wasn't going to let her. "You have to understand something, Hermione. I don't want to be here anymore. I mean, I love you and all, not to mention the Weasleys, but that's not enough to keep me here any longer than I have to be. I'm dead and the dead aren't supposed to come back once we're gone. This world, this life, is nothing but pain for me now. Hermione, I want to rest and I want to see Ginny again. Why can't you understand that?"

With those words, Hermione collapsed to the floor and started crying again. "I-it's n-not fair, H-harry."

"Life never is," was all I could say to that. "And death is even less so."

After getting her cleaned up a bit, I transported us both to the property line of the Weasleys. It was another of those bittersweet moments. I could see several of the Weasleys out behind the house, along with my new adopted sisters, having tea. I wanted to join them, but I knew it wouldn't work out. My time with them was done, and nothing was going to change that. No, I was just there to say goodbye to Hermione, probably for the very last time.

"Please," she begged when she saw where we were. "Don't leave again, Harry!"

Of course, just my luck, Mrs. Weasley had heard Hermione's yell. You want to know what fast is? Fast is Mrs. Weasley when she's running towards you to give you a hug. I swear, if I didn't know better, I would have thought she had Apparated from where she was to standing right in front of me in the blink of an eye. One moment I was turning around to run, and the next she had me in a hug that would have snapped my spine if I was still alive.

"H-harry!" she shrieked in my ear, crushing me in her arms the whole time.

Then I had another two sets of arms around my legs as Megan and Virginia, the girls I had saved from MacNair and adopted, joined in on the fun. I could see Mr. Weasley standing behind them with a pitying smile on his face. All I could do was motion to the two small girls and then the house to get him to take the girls with him. I didn't think they needed to hear what I was going to have to say to Mrs. Weasley. He seemed to understand and after pulling the girls aside and whispering to them, they walked back to the house leaving Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, and me by ourselves to talk.

"Oh Harry, dear," she finally said. "I'm so glad you're alive!"

That wasn't a good thing to hear and I knew I had to stop it immediately. Pulling away from the woman who had been the closest thing to a mother I ever knew, I stepped away from her so she could get a good look at me. There are some conversations you just know are not going to be easy and this was one of them. Part of me really didn't want to do it, but just like with Hermione, it needed to be done. With that thought firmly in mind, I knew there was only one way to make them both understand.

"I'm not alive, Molly," I said softly, pulling my wand and transfiguring a twig into a knife.

Before either of them could so much as twitch, I snatched up the blade and plunged it into my chest. Instantly they were shrieking, but I didn't stop. Instead, I pulled the knife out and let them watch as the wound slowly sealed. A quick cleaning spell and the blood was gone, except for what was left on the blade of the knife in my hand.

"I'm dead," I continued as they both fell to the ground. "My heart no longer beats and the blood in my veins is cold. I came back to deal out the justice that was denied when Ginny and I died, and then I'm returning to my grave."

Hermione and Mrs. Weasley were really sobbing now, but I couldn't back down. "I love you both so much. Hermione, you are my sister in all but blood. Mrs. Weasley, you are the mother I always wanted. Even with all that, it's just not enough to keep me here, even if that were possible, which it isn't. Every breath here hurts and I have so much blood on my hands. I just want to sleep, to go to my next great adventure knowing that Ginny is waiting for me. Can't you understand that?"

Turning my back to them, I started to walk away, but there was one last thing I needed to say to them both. "Live your lives, for me and Ginny. Raise those girls right, Molly. I'll make sure they have a better world to live in. And Hermione, go find Ron. I think you two need each other, now more than ever."

And that was it. The Crow transported me back to Grimmauld Place before they could say anything. It was better that way. A sudden break rather than some long and drawn out thing that would leave more wounds than it would heal. It was what I needed in order to understand that today was going to be the last day for me. I couldn't do this anymore, not to me or to the people I loved. This sunrise would be my last if I had anything to say about it.

"Let's get this over with," I said to the Crow as I stood up. "It's time for me to pay a visit to Lucius and his Master."

**Alright, Harry. We'll do it your way now.**

"Thanks," I whispered as the Crow transported us to Malfoy Manor.

Having never seen the place before I could honestly say I was somewhat surprised by it. I had always heard Draco talking about his home as if it was bigger than Buckingham Palace, but in reality it wasn't much bigger than Grimmauld Place. Well, maybe a bit bigger, but not by much. Still, it was bigger than the Burrow and #4 Privet Drive, so I guess he had a bit of bragging room there. Not that I cared. I wasn't there to write an article for the local shopper about how well off the Malfoys were.

"Can you tell me who's inside?" I asked, looking up at the Crow.

**Yeah, give me a moment.**

With that, the Crow took to the air and flew off towards one of the upstairs windows. I stepped into the shadows of a large tree and waited for her return. After what seemed like an eternity, I saw her flying back out of an open window on the lower floor. She was really making haste towards me and it looked like she had been attacked. There was blood dripping from one of her wings, droplets of it flying off the wingtip as she flew towards me.

**Watch out, Harry!** she cried as she approached. **They're ready for you!**

"Are you alright?" I asked, letting her land on my outstretched arm.

**I'll be fine in a little bit, but until I am, you are going to be vulnerable.**

"That doesn't sound good," was my reply as transfigured some tree bark into a bandage for her wing. "What do you mean by vulnerable?"

**Until I heal, maybe thirty minutes or so, you won't heal like you normally do. They won't be able to kill you, but it's going to hurt and it's going to make you weak.**

"Then we wait until you're healed," I grunted as I tied of the bandage.

**You can't, Harry. It's just Lucius and his son in there, but they've got Luna Lovegood tied up in the front parlor. She looks pretty beat up. If you wait too long, we might not be able to help her.**

"Bloody hell!" I swore under my breath before sitting her on a low branch and turning towards the house. "Then I guess this is going to hurt, but I'm not going to let those bastards take any more innocent lives. Go back to either the Burrow or Grimmauld Place until I'm done. I don't need someone catching you while you're hurt."

**Alright. I'll know when you need me, so don't worry about me, Harry.**

With that, she was gone. Good thing, too, since a sickly green spell suddenly passed right through where she had been a moment before. I turned and saw two figures rushing towards me. Both were wearing Death Eater robes, their faces covered by the bone white masks they always wore. It didn't really matter to me though who they were. What concerned me were the spells they were casting.

"DRACO!" shouted the one on the left. "Don't let him get away! The Dark Lord will reward us handsomely for his death."

"Yeah, right!" I spat, beginning to cast my own spells right back at them. "You actually think you're getting out of this one alive?"

What followed has to have been the longest, most annoying duel of my life. Obviously, Draco hadn't kept up his studies because he just kept casting the same three spells at me over and over again. He would cast a stunner followed by Sectumsempra, and rounded off with Avada Kedavra, over and over again. Lucky for me I only had to dodge the first two since the third one was useless. That's not to say I didn't get hit with the cutting curse a few times. Thankfully, as much as it hurt, it still couldn't kill me.

"I don't know how you faked your death, Potter," screamed Draco as one of my spells sliced though his robes. "It doesn't really matter though, because I'm going to kill you, finally!"

I snorted with laughter as I dodged yet another killing curse cast by the little blonde ponce. "First of all, I didn't fake my death, not that it really matters. As for you killing me? You couldn't kill a fly if your daddy was there to hold your wand for you while you did it."

While Draco I as having my little conversation with Draco, Lucius was busy proving that unlike his son, he really was a threat. While Draco tried to distract me with his juvenile taunts and pathetic dueling skills, his father circled around us like a jungle cat on the hunt. Every time I lost sight of the elder Malfoy for even an instant, the bastard would throw some nasty dark spell at me. Luckily, being dead tends to protect you from some of the nastier dark curses. Suffocation doesn't work on someone that doesn't need to breathe. A heart attack inducing curse also doesn't work when your heart doesn't beat. However, an entrail expelling spell will still cause your guts to try evacuating your body through whatever opening is currently available. After literally fighting to keep my stomach from flying out my mouth, I had finally had enough. I waited until Lucius and Draco were standing next to each other before pumping everything I had into one major spell aimed at their feet.

"_Confringo!"_

The explosion caused by the spell was enough to knock both men off their feet. Not wasting any time, I ran over to the unconscious Malfoys and stunned them just to be sure they weren't faking it. Then, just for good measure, I stunned them both about five more times each. I know, it was childish, but it sure made me feel better. Well, it would have if my colon hadn't currently been sliding down my leg. So, doing the most logical thing I could think of, I passed out.

"Wake up, Harry," said a soft voice.

"Don't want to," I whined, keeping my eyes tightly closed. "Just fought the Malfoys and my guts are trying to run away."

I heard someone laugh, a young woman. "I fixed that little problem, Harry. Now you need to wake up and deal with them so you can return to where you came from. You wouldn't want to leave Ginny alone with the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. They can travel to the other side and back, didn't you know that?"

"Luna?" I asked, opening my eyes and sitting up.

Sure enough, sitting next to me and looking more than a little worse for wear was Luna Lovegood. Her hair was matted with blood from a scabbed over cut on her forehead, but her eyes still sparkled with that odd light they always had. How she had gotten free was beyond me, but at least she was safe. Standing up I reached down to help her to her feet, seeing for the first time the bruises on her arms and legs, revealed by the tattered state of her robes. It looked like the Malfoys had been beating her, or maybe worse, for some time.

"Are you okay, Luna?" I asked, not really wanting to hear one of her uniquely blunt answers.

"Oh, I've been better, Harry," she answered, looking up at me as she stood on slightly wobbly legs. "Draco tried to rape me several times, but his little thing didn't seem to want to cooperate. He and his father would just beat me, or use the Cruciatus on me when that happened."

And for the first time since I had met Luna on the Hogwarts Express all those years ago, I watched as her silver eyes filled with tears. Doing the only thing I could, I hugged her as tightly as I could. I held her until the tears stopped and then I held her until she stopped shaking. Time had little meaning as I held her in my arms. All that mattered was that one of my few friends needed me and I was going to be there for her for as long as I could. Luna finally reached up and pulled my head down. Much to my surprise she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed me on the lips.

"You know, Harry," she said dreamily after pulling away, "I always thought you and Ginny made the perfect couple, but if she had ever let you go, I would have scooped you up in a heartbeat."

"Thanks, Luna," I said with a blush. "I would have been a lucky man."

"Not that Ginny was ever going to let you go, Harry," continued Luna, stepping back and turning to hide her own blush. "Even with her being dead, she's still holding on tightly to you. Lucky girl."

We both laughed at that. Sure, it wasn't exactly the time for laughter, but then again maybe it was. When faced with a situation like we found ourselves in, maybe it was the perfect time to laugh. Whatever the case, I knew Luna was going to be okay. That was the important part.

"Well, Harry," she said softly as she looked over her shoulder at me. "I'm going to walk over there a ways while you deal with these two. If it wouldn't be a bother, could you take me home when you are done?"

"Sure, Luna. Just give me a bit of time," I answered, looking down at the still unconscious Malfoys. Taking off my leather robe, I handed it to her. "Here, wear this. Your robe seems a bit torn up at the moment."

"Why thank you, Harry," she replied taking it and removing her torn robe, revealing exactly what she wasn't wearing under it.

"Umm… Luna…you're naked," I managed to get out as she turned and walked off, bare as the day she was born.

"Is that a problem, Harry?" she asked as she continued to walk away.

Thinking about it for a moment, all I could say was, "I guess not. See you in a bit, Luna."

"I'll be waiting," she called back as she reached the trees just at the property line.

As soon as Luna was out of sight, I set to work. Dragging the two Malfoys into their much beloved manor, I went searching for the front parlor. I figured it was fitting that they spend their last moments in the home that they loved. So, with them soon secured tightly to two large arm chairs, I set about preparing the room. It took me nearly twenty minutes to prepare the room for what I had in mind for them. I had left their wand arms free when fastening them to the chairs so that they could still use their wands. Now that my trap was set, I laid their wands on their laps, ready for my master plan. Finally, when I was all done, I woke them both up.

"Potter!" they both screamed at once.

"When I get loose I'm going to kill you!" shrieked Draco.

"The Dark Lord will kill you for this!" bellowed Lucius.

"Yes, I'm sure he'll try, but we have other things to talk about before that happens," I drawled, turning away from them and walking towards the door. "I've charmed the room so that the only way out is if one of you kills the other, the remaining one goes free…"

"_AVADA KEDAVRA_!" both men screamed at once.

I spun around when neither spell hit me, and saw both father and son dead as doornails. "What the fuck! I spent all that time setting this up and you two just up and kill each other before I can even explain my master plan to you? I spent all that time rigging your mansion to explode and turned your chairs into portkeys so the survivor would be transported far enough away to watch the manor destroyed. Then, after you had watched your house go up in flames, the chair was going to transform into a dragon and fly you to the middle of the ocean where it was going to explode and leave your burnt and mangled body for the sharks to eat. But NO, you two have to be complete wankers and off yourselves! Talk about anticlimactic!"

"_It figures,"_ I thought to myself as I looked at the two dead men. _"Draco and his father always claimed to be more dangerous than they really were. Not even the love of a father for his son, or vice versa, was enough to make them bat an eye at killing one another. How utterly pathetic."_

Storming out of the house, I cast one more spell to trigger the traps I had set. The two Malfoy morons might have ruined my well set plans, but I was still blowing up them and their manor. Burning the image of the Crow into the stone path leading to the manor, I walked away still grumbling about how inconsiderate some people could be. Several pops, an explosion, and a raging fire later I made my way over to where I had seen Luna enter the trees. I soon found her sitting on my robe, still naked, only now she looked to have cleaned up a bit.

"Umm… Luna…you were meant to wear my robe, not sit on it," I pointed out as I walked over to her.

Standing up and stretching, Luna just smiled at me before bending over at the waist to pick up the robe and hand it back to me. "Oh, that's alright, Harry. It's a nice day out so I didn't really need it."

"B-but Luna, you're naked," I stammered, stating the obvious, "and evidently a bit chilly."

"I still don't see a problem, Harry," replied Luna, walking over to hand me my robe before she wrapped an arm around one of mine.

"_What can I say to that one?"_ I thought to myself, trying not to look down at where my arm was currently located. "No problem at all, Luna. Let's get you home, shall we?"

A few minutes later, and several blushes on my part, Luna was home safe and sound. Her father was evidently off taking care of something for his newspaper, so Luna invited me in for a spot of tea. I'm not sure which was more shocking, the fact she not only accepted that I was dead or the fact that she never once made a move to get dressed. Do you have any idea how hard it is for a man, dead or alive, to not look at an attractive woman's body? I mean seriously, I was starting to get neck cramps from fighting the urge to someplace other than her eyes. Finally, when I could take no more of her stretches and random displays of how limber she is, I had to say my final farewell.

As I walked towards the door, I smiled over my shoulder at her saying, "I'm sure we'll see each other again someday, Luna, but don't hurry on my account."

"Yes," she agreed with a very serious look on her face, the first I had ever seen. "I think that after everything I've put you through this afternoon, we will see each other again someday, Harry. Many years from now, but we will see each other again."

With a final smile, I stepped out the door and just before it closed I heard her whisper, "I wonder if Ginny would mind sharing?"


	7. Its hour come round at last

**The Crow: Phoenix Rising**

By: Belcris

_Summary: What if "the power the Dark Lord knows not" had nothing to do with love? What if it had everything to do with justice? Crossover of Harry Potter and the Crow. _

_Harry Potter created by: JK Rowling _

_The Crow created by: James O'Barr_

_I do not own these characters and I do not seek to profit from this story. I only wish to pay tribute to two great authors._

_WARNING: This story contains scenes of graphic violence, foul language, and death. Rape is implied. You have been warned._

_Category: AU. Dark Fiction._

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Chapter 7: Its hour come round at last

In the blink of an eye, I was standing in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. A lot had changed since I was here last. The statue that had once stood in the fountain had been replaced with an abomination in the shape of a witch and wizard sitting on thrones made from the bodies of dead Muggles. I nearly lost it when I saw that the base of the statue proclaimed, "Magic is Might." Once again, it was obvious someone needed to prove to these stinking racists that what they thought they knew was just a lie.

**He's here, Harry. I think you can guess as to where.**

"Yeah," I agreed with a nod as the Crow lifted off my shoulder and flew up into the shadows that hid the ceiling. "Only place he could be now, the Death Chamber."

**Yes**, was the only answer I got, but it was all I needed.

"It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done;" I quoted as I walked past the statue. "It is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.i"

By the time I was standing next to the fountain, alarms were ringing all through the building. Within seconds, I saw green flames appearing in all the fireplaces around the room and the elevator doors opening to reveal Aurors and Death Eaters alike. They poured into the room like rats from a sinking ship until they had me surrounded. It was a daunting sight, but I knew something they didn't. You can't kill the dead.

With a crooked grin, I looked around at all the wands now pointed at me before asking in the cockiest tone I could manage, "Shall we dance?"

I don't think they expected me to actually fight back, so when I ran towards the closest person and slammed my fist into his face, no one moved. As the body of the unconscious Auror slid to the ground, the rest of them started to move. There easily could have been over a hundred people casting spells at me all at once, which worked out well for me. Over half of them succumbed to spells fired by their own allies in that first volley of spells. It was a very good thing for me, but very bad thing for them, not that I was going to complain.

What followed, at least for me, really did feel a lot like dancing. Back in my fourth year when it was required I attend the Yule Ball, dancing had seemed a torture to me, but this was different. This sound of spells being cast accompanied by the non-stop shouts and screams of battle, now that was a song I could dance to. Fighting against unbelievable odds in the middle of the Ministry of Magic Atrium, I think I finally figured out what it meant to be graceful. I wished Ginny could have been there to enjoy it with me as I danced my gruesome dance of death and justice.

I leapt through the air, feeling as if gravity could no longer touch me and rained down death upon my enemies. Then ducking into shadows, I would leap out from behind my foes with fierce blows that robbed them of their ability to fight. I have to imagine that it was strange to watching me dodge in and out of heavy spell fire. The spells cast at me causing no harm, or what they did cause being quickly healed by the power of the Avatar. I know for me that it was so interesting to watch I actually let a few spells hit me just so I could watch my own skin knit back together almost instantly. It must have been a terrible yet beautiful battle to watch. For my part, I only felt one thing. I was horrified.

"_This is the power of the Avatar of Death and Justice,"_ I thought to myself with growing understanding. "_This power should never exist in this world, or any other. It's a good thing I'll be gone soon."_

Focusing back on my attackers, I saw that there were only five left now. Four were Aurors, but the last one was wearing the black robe and mask of a Death Eater. So far, I had spared the lives of the Aurors who only fought because they had been forced to, but the Death Eaters had not been so lucky. As far as I was concerned, if you took Voldemort's mark, you were as good as dead already. I didn't even stop to think as I spun around casting four stunning spells and one blasting curse. The Aurors never even had a chance to shield and the Death Eater was well on his way to Hell before he even realized I had just turned his head into a fine pink mist. It actually looked rather pretty when it was illuminated from the back by the atrium lights.

"That's it," I said, tearing my eyes away from slowly settling blood mist, "I've fucking lost my mind finally."

**Who says you ever had it?**

"Oh! Listen! It's the bloody magical bird that leads me on my merry adventures!" I shouted, plopping down amongst the dead and injured.

**I resemble that remark, Harry,** replied the Crow as she settled onto my shoulder. **You're starting to understand why my Avatars should never stay for long amongst the living. This is not your world any longer and to remain can only bring you pain and madness.**

"Well that's just bloody fucking lovely, innit?" I groused, looking up into the black eyes of the bird. "Lucky for me, I don't want to stay any longer than I have to."

**Well of course you don't, you silly prat! That's why I don't use the living to do my work for me. Only the dead, and a few lawyers in New York, would be willing to do the things that have to be done when you are an Avatar of Death and Justice. Only someone like you, someone pure of spirit, can give up the power when the time comes.**

"Please," I begged. "Tell me that time is coming soon?"

The Crow nodded her head and I felt relief. I just wanted to see Ginny again and after this last battle was over, I would. All I needed to do was make it though one last fight and I could rest. If that isn't motivation, I don't know what is. Climbing back to my feet I stretched and looked around again. I had really done a number on these guys, and that was fine with me now. The ones that deserved it got dead and the ones that didn't, didn't. It was as simple as that. Now I was going to head down to the Veil and put paid to a long overdue bill.

"Let's do this," I grunted, heading towards the elevators. "I've got a date with the girl I love and I don't intend to keep her waiting anymore."

**So, you're over your angst?**

"Yeah, just needed to vent for a moment," I answered, entering the elevator.

**It happens to the best of you humans, so I guess it can happen to you as well.**

"Gee, that's not too much of a backhanded compliment," I deadpanned as the elevator reached my floor.

**Trying to lighten the mood, Harry.**

"Not really working," I grunted as I made my way through hallways and doors I had not seen since my fifth year at Hogwarts.

You know that old saying, "time flies when you're having fun?" Well take it from me, it also flies when you are on your way to kill the man responsible for the rape and murder of the woman you love. You know, it might even happen if it was the man you love, though I don't swing that way. In any case, as I opened that last door I saw three things. The first was the damned Veil that had taken Sirius from me. The next was the second biggest bloody snake I've ever seen. I mean it was almost as big as its master's ego, and that's saying something. Yep, old Moldy Voldy was standing there right in front of the Veil with a shit-eating grin on his face. The Crow took off into the shadows again and I started walking down the stairs towards the engineer behind my demise.

"God," I groaned. "I really hate this prick."

Now before I died I would have stood around and listened to Lord Mold-in-my-shorts for a while, but I didn't have the patience for it right at that moment. "Gonna kill you tonight, Tom."

"Potter, I don't know how you," began Tom, but I cut him off with a raised finger.

"Hold on, Tommy," I said in a sickly sweet voice, much like what Aunt Marge used to use with Dudley. "Papa is busy at the moment and then he's going to clean you just like the cock stain you are."

I don't know what surprised my archenemy more, the way I dared speak to him, or the fact that I suddenly drew the Elder Wand and summoned his snake to me. Talk about impressive, seeing that damn snake flying through the air was downright scary. Even better was the look on Lord Flight of Death's face as the Crow swooped down and swallowed his little pet whole before vanishing back into the shadows. Hell, he hadn't even gotten his wand drawn before his last Horcrux was happily making its way straight to hell.

"Do you know what you've done, Potter?" screeched Voldemort, and I mean screeched like a little girl.

I was trying to muffle my laughter, but I think he figured out I was laughing at me, "Of course I do, Tommy. I just destroyed the last of your Horcruxes."

I think that was the one answer he wasn't prepared for. I never wished for Colin Creevey and his camera so much as I did right at that moment. A picture of Tommy boy with his jaw hanging down to his chest would have been worth all the Galleons in Gringotts, but being the one to make him do it was abso-bloody-lutely priceless. He just stood there in shock for a few moments while I finished walking to the bottom of the stairs. Finally, as I walked over to stand in front of him, Tom seemed to gather his wits again, at least enough to step back away from me.

"There is no way you could have destroyed my Horcruxes," declared Voldemort, looking at me with a mix of fear and disbelief.

I just laughed and shook my head, "Destroying your six little anchors, including Nagini, was the easy part. The hard part was cleaning the blood out from under my fingernails after killing your little fan club. You can ask them about it when you reach Hell, well, except for Bella. That bitch is going to be busy for a very long time."

Tom sneered at me saying, "You may have destroyed my Horcruxes, but I will not die so easily. Besides, how hypocritical you are when it is obvious that you did the same as I in order to be here. Tell me, who did you kill to create your Horcrux, Potter?"

I laughed even harder at this question. "You think I would stoop to your level, Tom? Besides, you are assuming I'm still alive. I tell you what, I'll give you a free shot. Kill me, if you can. I won't even try to stop you."

"Like I need your permission to kill you," snarled the Dork Lord, pointing his wand at me. "_AVADA KEDAVRA_!"

Okay, talk about a Kodak moment. Tom looked so smug as the spell hit me right the face. Too bad for him that it didn't even phase me. I admit, for a moment I was worried, but it was only for a moment. As the green light of the spell faded and I was still standing there laughing, Lord Boldly-fart actually looked like someone had just taken his favorite toy away from him. I swear, he even started stamping his feet like a little child and whining about how he was the most powerful Dark Lord to ever rise. It was actually funny seeing him act like a little child, even if it only lasted a moment or two.

"How is this possible, Potter?" he finally asked after composing himself again.

"It's all about Justice and Death," I answered with a straight face. "You crossed a line that should never be crossed, and I'm here to make sure you pay for it."

"Just die!" screamed Tom Riddle and started casting spells.

You want to know what a real Wizard's duel is like? It's an ongoing test to see if you can cheat more than your opponent. Sure, those professional duels are great, but they play by so many rules that it becomes more like a tennis match than a true battle. No, if you are just trading spells with an opponent, you are not fighting him, you are merely seeing which of you knows more spells than the other. Don't get me wrong, competitive dueling is a lot of work, those duelists are exhausted by the time they are done, but I doubt even one of them could really handle a full scale batter against more than one opponent. Well, maybe Professor Flitwick could have taken on more than one opponent, but then he always did strike me as having a bit of nastiness hidden away inside. I mean that in a good way, of course.

A real Wizard's duel is mean and nasty with a side of "fuck you" added in for good measure. That was our battle and our destiny. Tom and I weren't trading stinging hexes or jelly leg curses. No, the first spell cast was a deep, rich purple that missed me by a mile, but destroyed half the stairway behind me. The second was another killing curse, because I guess Tom just couldn't believe that his favorite curse wouldn't work on me. After that, things got nasty. As I dodged everything that He-Who-Has-No-Sense-of-Humor cast at me, I recognized some of the spells. I have to admit, he wasn't mucking about because some of those spells were just bloody vicious. Personally, I hadn't even drawn my wand yet, but I sure was moving like a toad on red hot skillet. In fact, it wasn't until I drew my wand that things really got nasty.

I remember watching Dumbledore and Voldemort fighting in the Atrium. Back then, before I died, I thought that was the most impressive thing I had ever seen. Now, running and dodging every spell Tommy cast at me, I realized it was just a tired old man fighting as best he could. Dumbledore didn't stand still because he could thanks to his spectacular ability to block Tom's spells. No, he stood still and blocked because he was too old and too tired to move around like he needed to. Necessity had forced him to become better at blocking, and that was the difference. Where Dumbledore could not outlast Tom magically thanks to all the blocking he had to do, I just had to keep moving. Yeah, if I was still alive I would have grown tired, but since I'm dead I can just keep moving. That means, very simply, I was going to outlast Lord Can't-Get-It-Up.

"Hold still and fight me, Potter!" shrieked Tom.

"Yeah, like that's going to happen, Tommy-boy!" I answered back, jumping over yet another killing cure. "You're persistent, I'll give you that."

While I jumped and ran, spun and slid, around the spells Lord Flees-From-Women cast at me, I was firing cutting curses all around him. Reason being, he was standing not ten feet away from the Veil on a rather large and solid looking stone platform. So, in my honest opinion, if the Veil was good enough for Sirius, it was more than good enough for Tom. Well, at least that was the plan until snake face decided to leap off the platform and hover near the ceiling. Wanker can fly without a broom. That's just not fair.

"Now who's running away, Tom?" I asked, running up a wall slightly before flipping backwards over yet another killing curse. _"The man really does have no imagination. I can't seem to hit him and he can't seem to hit me. At this rate I would have to lay down and..."_

And leaping through the air, riding the pressure wave of a blasting curse, I remember an old poem I had read in grade school. At the time I thought it was confusing and far too long, but I never forgot the end of it.

"_This is the way the world ends_

_This is the way the world ends_

_This is the way the world ends_

_Not with a bang but a whimper.__ii__"_

"Brilliant," I whispered to myself, watching Tom closely to see what he was going to cast next.

I was in luck, the next spell was another blasting curse that hit just to my right. Pushing off from the ground, I rode the shock wave right down to the platform and landed on my side, facing the Veil. Peeking though my right eye, the one against the ground, I calculated that there was approximately nine feet between me and the Veil. That would work perfectly for what I had planned. So, acting dazed and moaning slightly to add to the effect, I waited for Tom to get cocky, he always does when we fight. Didn't take him long to figure I was down for good, so the arse floated back to the ground, landing between me and the Veil.

"At last," Tom said with a sneer. "You should have known you could not best me, Potter. I am Lord Voldemort. You are nothing compared to me!"

"You know," I calmly replied, leaping up to my feet and looking Tom right in the face, "You're absolutely right. I am nothing compared to you. Though not for the reasons you think. See, I'm so much better than you that it would be like trying to compare pumpkins to peanuts, there just is no comparison."

Voldemort stepped back, slightly shocked that I was not nearly as incapacitated as he had thought. "You are insane, boy, and I don't care what you think, Potter. All I care about is that I will find your secret, how you came back from the grave, and I will rip it from you and make it my own. You could save yourself a lot of pain if you just told me now."

"Oh, I'll tell you, Tom," I assured him, stepping forward and forcing him to take another step backwards. "It's actually very easy. See, all you have to do is be killed by your worst enemies and know that they will escape justice for it. Then you have to get lucky enough for a mystical bird to notice you and grant you the power to met out the required amount of death and justice to those that require it."

"What nonsense are you talking about, Potter?" spat Tom, but he still took another step backwards when I stepped forward again. "I don't want to hear your delusions. There is nothing after death! When you die, you are gone! Unless you have anchored your soul here, then when death claims you, you are gone! Forever!"

"You really are a moron, you know that, right?" I asked, stepping forward again and watching as Voldemort took another step backwards, his back now inches from the Veil. And this is how Justice was finally delivered to Tom Marvolo Riddle, not with a fancy spell or a titanic battle, but by a young man and a few home truths.

"You split your soul to keep you here," I said calmly, looking right into Tom's eyes. "But did you ever ask yourself why you had a soul at all? What need is there for a soul if we disappear after death? What need would we have for something eternal, that lasts long after we are gone, if we just fade away?"

I could see growing understanding in Tom's eyes as I spoke, but I continued before he could answer. "You've damaged that which is eternal in order to hold onto that which is fleeting. In the process, you have committed great crimes against others, and against yourself. Now, with only a shred of your humanity left, you cling to life in desperation because you know you will have to face your punishment when your time comes, Tom. And it will come. In fact, it's here right now."

"Foolish child!" roared Tom, trying to rage against what I had told him. "There is nothing after this world! The soul is nothing but a shadow of the mind. Nothing more than a…"

"Nothing more than the complete and utter sum of everything you ever were, are now, and ever could have been," I completed for him. "And you threw it away. You tore it to shreds and in so doing, you abandoned the last of your humanity. I feel sorry for you, Tom, because you will never understand what you have lost until it is too late for you."

"BAH!" roared Voldemort. "What utter nonsense! I am immortal. I have no need of your lectures on a mythical afterlife. I will rule for eternity and you will watch as I kill all those you love."

I had to laugh at that point, I couldn't help myself. "You've already done enough of that, Tom. You were responsible for my parents and Ginny, not to mention Dumbledore and Cedric. Those souls are calling for your death and I'm not one to deny the dead their wants. Not my job."

"Oh, and what is your 'job,' Potter?"

"I'm the fucking Avatar of Death and Justice, Tom," I answered with a manic smile. "My job is to send you to Hell. So, off you go!"

You know, if I had cast a spell at him, even at such close range, I think Tom would have deflected it. However, leaning back and kicking him in the chest with my foot was not something he ever expected anyone to do to him. I doubt Tom even realized how close he was to the Veil, too busy ranting at me most likely, but in that instant before he fell through it, Tom knew utter terror. The expression on his face as he finally understood what was happening was one of fear. Justice did not require me to kill him in some bloody and horrific fashion. No, Justice required that I make him understand, at least on some level, that he was going to pay for his sins for a very long time. Death was not an escape for him, it was a sentence with no chance of parole.

"Bye, Tommy," was all I could think to say.

**It's over now, Harry.**

"I know," I meekly replied, feeling very tired.

I'm not sure how I ended up on my arse, but next thing I knew I was sitting on the stone floor with my back against the arch that held the veil. I could hear whispers from just behind it and occasionally a few screams that sounded familiar. What I did not hear was the voice I wanted to hear the most. Maybe I wasn't done yet, or maybe she was just too far away. Whatever the case might be, I was alone and I just wanted to rest.

**You're not completely alone.**

I look up and see someone standing at the top of the ruined stairs. I hadn't thought I would see him again, but considering I've run into everyone else I know, it makes sense that he would be here. He makes his way slowly down to where I am, I can't seem to stand up, so it's a good thing he does. After a few moments he stands in front of me and then sits, and smiles.

"Hello, Ron," I whisper, barely strong enough to do even that.

"Hello, mate," replies Ron, his eyes a little bright with unshed tears. "I've really missed you, you know?"

I smile up at him and realize that even with the both of us sitting down, he's still taller than me. "I know. I didn't want to go, you know that, right?"

"Of course I know," he answers. "I think I always knew you would be back. Just a feeling I had. I think that's why I couldn't really move on after you were gone. Even when we were out looking for his Horcruxes, I wanted to stay close to home in the hope I would be there when you got back. Bit mental, right?"

"A bit," I agreed. "You know I can't stay, right?"

"Yeah," Ron answered, nodding once. "Your time is up and you've completed what you came to do."

"Exactly," I confirmed, sliding a bit further down the arch. "Ginny's waiting for me."

"I'm not waiting," whispered a woman's voice in my ear, a voice I could never forget.

Looking up, I could see Ginny standing next to me, just on the edge of where the Veil normally hung. God, she looked so beautiful. Shining white light spilled out of the Veil, looking like someone had pulled it aside so that she could be bathed in its light. I looked back past her and beyond the Veil. Standing there, just behind Ginny on the other side of where the Veil had been, were my parents, Sirius, Remus, and even Tonks. They were all there waiting for me, smiling and waving at me. Ginny reached down and took my hand in hers, and I could feel the warmth of her skin as we touched.

"Blimey!" swore Ron and I suddenly realized that he was seeing what I was. "Ginny, oh God! Ginny!"

"Hi, Ron," she said, looking at her brother and smiling. "No hugs, it's not your time, but I want you to know I love you and I am still here, even if you can't always see me."

"L-love you, too, Gin," replied Ron, trying not to cry, but not managing it.

"Tell everyone, especially Mum and Dad, that I love them," continued Ginny. "And you watch after Harry's little sisters and Hermione for us, alright?"

"I will, I promise," he swore, standing up and helping me to my feet one last time. "I'm going to miss you two, so much."

"Hey," I rasped, my throat tight with emotions. "We'll see each other again, mate. Just don't be in any rush to make it too soon, right?"

"Got it," agreed Ron. "I've got a lot to do before then, but I expect you both to be there when it's my time."

"Of course," both Ginny and I replied.

Ron and I hugged, one last time before I pulled away. Turning and facing Ginny again, I held out my hand and took hers in mine. One step was all it took to cross the line between pain and bliss. Instantly I felt my body fill with life and I once again felt the beating of my heart in my chest. I turned back to look past the Veil at Ron. He smiled at me with tears in his eyes and gave me a thumbs up before waving to Ginny. Slowly I watched the curtain fall between the worlds, but not before I heard Ginny say one last thing to her brother.

"Ron!" Ginny called just before the curtain, the Veil, sealed behind us. "Tell Luna we'll talk about it when she gets here, but I'm okay with it!"

"What's that about?" I asked, turning to Ginny and wrapping my arms around her.

"Oh, just some girl talk," Ginny answered, standing up on her tiptoes to kiss me. "We'll explain it all to you when she gets here, love. Till then, we've got a lot of catching up to do."

I of course kissed her as passionately as I could, listening to the catcalls of my friends and family. I couldn't think of a better way to start my next great adventure than with a kiss from the woman I loved. Now I was free and could spend my eternity where I belonged, surrounded by friends and family.

All was well.

**Epilogue**

Ron Weasley would later tell his friends of what he had seen beyond the Veil. It seemed to bring many of them some peace, especially his mother and father. Everyone was glad that he had been there at the end to see Harry on his way to his rest, even Hermione was glad. Oddly, when he told Luna the message that Ginny had given him, the odd young woman had hugged him tightly before leaving, smiling happily the entire time. Ron never did figure out what Ginny had meant, but it had truly made Luna's day, so that was good enough for him. The one thing he never told anyone was of the strange crow that had landed atop the Veil's arch after Harry and Ginny were gone. He doubted anyone would believe him if he told them the bird had pecked at the arch until it collapsed, sealing the Veil forever, so why bother telling them.

Rather quickly after the fall of Voldemort, life began to improve for everyone in the Wizarding world. The Ministry was quickly rid of anyone that had worked for Voldemort's regime and Kingsley Shacklebolt was made Minister of Magic. The former Auror would eventually be proclaimed the greatest Minister the Ministry had ever see. Minister Shacklebolt introduced the Equal Rights Measure that guaranteed fair treatment to all magical races, an act that many considered the greatest achievement in the history of the Wizarding world.

Ron and Hermione would eventually solve their differences and marry. They had two children, Harry and Rose, and spent their lives working to help those that could not help themselves. In the summer of their one hundred forty-first year of marriage, Hermione passed away quietly while taking a nap in her personal library. Ron, crushed by his wife's death, made all the necessary arrangements for two funerals, said goodbye to his children and grandchildren, then went for a fly on his broomstick. After examining his personal pitch one last time, he landed under the goals and sat down for a nap from which he never woke up. The healers would later say that his heart just stopped, but his children believed it had broken when their mother died. Ron and Hermione were buried in the family plot at Godric's Hollow, right next to Harry and Ginny, who had somehow been magically moved there after she came to claim Harry.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would both lead very good lives. They raised Megan and Virginia, who never went by Ginny, Potter as if they were their own children. Unfortunately, Arthur passed away when he was only seventy-five. Molly could be heard complaining until the day she died that Arthur should have known better than to try and ride that Muggle Boardskate, it was no wonder he fell off and broke his fool neck. Molly waited another thirty years before she joined her husband. In that time, she helped take care of several new generations of Weasleys and even a few Potters. After she passed in her sleep, Bill and Fleur bought the Burrow and had it rebuilt. The new Burrow would be passed down through their family for generations to come, as would the story of Harry and Ginny.

Megan and Virginia Potter both went on to become famous witches. Neither would ever marry, claiming no one could ever compare to their older brother, but both would have large families thanks to Muggle Science. Oddly, through some facet of magic that no one could ever explain, their children were confirmed as being descended from the Potter line. Further blood work later proved that both women were actual sisters of Harry Potter, even though they had not been when they were born. The goblins had a theory that their Goddess had meddled with the Potter women, but who were they to gainsay a god? Whatever the case, the Potter sisters went on to create one of the largest families in history with fourteen sons and daughters between them and numerous grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Not that they did nothing but have children. When not surrounded by family, the two sisters created the Phoenix Mission to help orphans in the Muggle and Magical world. The world mourned their loss most keenly when they died at the age of two hundred and twelve during a skydiving accident.

Luna Lovegood led a sadly short but amazing life. After the defeat of Voldemort, Luna spent the next ten years working for the Quibbler writing stories about the animals she had so loved. It was while writing one of these stories about a new breed of more intelligent Hippogriffs that she sacrificed her life to save the life of a child. While talking with one of the Hippogriff handlers, she noticed that one of the tourist groups to the reserve was passing by. A small child, maybe nine or ten years old, was leaning against the cage of one of the younger Hippogriffs and taunting the poor beasts. In the blink of an eye the enraged Hippogriff lunged at the child, tearing right through the bars of his cage. Seeing that the child was about to be killed, Luna Apparated between the Hippogriff and the offensive little child. Everyone watched in horror as she pushed the child to safety only to be hit in the back of the head by one of the beast's claws. She was dead instantly. According to her wishes, Luna was buried in the same suit she was born in, her birthday suit, and laid to rest next to her mother with a simple epitaph on her stone.

"Death is not the end, only the beginning of something more."

_**The End**_

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Author's Note:

A door creeks open and lets in the first true rays of sunlight that the author has looked upon in quite some time. His mind, once filled with dark shadows and the screaming of nightmares, is happy that the nightmare is finally over. He is free at last and it is time to walk out into the light once more.

"Hello my dear readers and friends," he says as he exits his dark imprisonment. "I have missed you all and now that my time in the darkness is done, I only hope that you were able to accept my dark vision."

Looking around it is strange to see that the author is now standing in a sunlight field filled with the sound of birdsong and the sight of wildflowers. Walking over to a large mahogany desk and a plush leather chair, the author sits and smiles up at the sun overhead. "I've always wanted to share my visions, both light and dark, with you. As you can tell, this was one of the darkest visions I have had so far, but I needed to share it with you all."

Reaching down to open a drawer the author pulls out four bundles of paper, a pack of cigarettes, and a silver Zippo lighter. Looking at the clearly written titles on the bundles, the author opens the pack of cigarettes and pulls one out. Tapping the cigarette on the face of his wristwatch, he then sticks the cigarette in his mouth and lights it with the Zippo. Taking a deep draw on the cigarette, the author looks back at the bundles and then back up at his readers and friends.

"I have more visions to share with you all," says the author, exhaling the thick smoke slowly. "A third story in the Time's Avenging Angel series called, 'The Prisoner of Time,' is fully outlined and mostly written. I apologize that it has taken me so long to share that one with you, but I wanted to polish it until it shone with the purity of the vision I originally envisioned. Sadly, I focused on too many odd little quirks with the first two stories. This third story in the series will be more of what I always intended for the series and I think you will appreciate it all the more because of the wait."

Looking at the second bundle the author picks it up and looks at it with a smile. "This little gem here is another cross over, but I think it will wait a little longer. It is another crossover between the Harry Potter universe and the DC Comics universe. I will let you imagine what that may mean and when it is finished, I promise I will share it with you. Let me tell you that it is called, 'Green Mage's Light' and that it will combine two of my favorite characters of all time. If it is well received, I may even expand the story to include a sequel."

Setting down the green and gold bundle, the author picks up the third bundle. "I started this one at the same time I started 'The Crow,' but life got in the way of finishing it. I have time now, so I will begin on it once again. This is a romance, though don't assume that means it is all fluffy and light. There is darkness as well, but it will be fun for me to write and hopefully for you to read. I do so love French accents and 'Longing' will have them in abundance."

"Sadly," the author continues, setting down the third bundle and picking up the fourth. "This one is not a vision I will share with you."

Picking up his Zippo, the author sets fire to the fourth bundle and tossing the burning mass into a metal waste bin. "That poor creation was another crossover that I just do not feel is good enough to ever share with you. Maybe someday I will try again, but until then I fear Harry and Buffy will just have to wait.

But, that is the future and this is now. I thank you for sharing these visions with me and I hope you will return again as I show you more. That's all I really wanted to do, share my visions with you and maybe make you smile, cry, laugh, or even snort."

Standing up, the author walks around his large desk and smiles at all his readers and friends. "I dream these visions for my own sake, but I share them for yours. So long as you return, so will I. Join me sometime at my homepage and I may even share new visions with you, but that is up to you.

Anyway, for now, with my deepest gratitude and thanks, I say farewell and hope that we will see each other again someday soon."

Bowing to his readers and friends, the author stands up straight again and smiles. With a snap of his fingers, he is gone. The field now empty, a single crow flies across the field before vanishing into the clouds over head, leaving only a solitary black feather to fall back to Earth and land upon the author's desk.

* * *

i Quoted from _**A Tale of Two Cities**_ by Charles Dickens.

ii Quoted from _**The Hollow Men**_ (1925) by T. S. Eliot


End file.
